Food Guilt

I haven't posted much about bench marks in weight loss for the last several months because there haven't been any. Starting in September, after I'd reached my goal birthday weight, things went awry. For one reason or another, my gym attendance was sporadic and I started indulging. Just a little. Here and there. I've managed to maintain that weight, going up and down about 7 pounds until now... but it's difficult.

My initial motivation, devastation, is no longer a factor--and I've yet to find an equally powerful substitute. My lifelong dream of being thin and elegant is not enough to get me going these days. I just can't seem to get out of the 160s range, and I can't seem to muster up the discipline to break myself out of this weightloss inertia by being hardcore about my food intake. Now that I'm down from an original weight of 222, I have to reduce my caloric intake if I want to see loss, but I'm just hungry a lot. and When I am working out and lifting, my metabolism is so amped up that it's hard to eat less. But I'm not really worried about eating that is metabo-related, because I know my body is putting that to good use. It's the emotional eating that I know I'm doing more and more often. I do think that some of this is self-sabotage at work. And it's the fact that while I still make more healthy choices overall, I'm not really that interested in denying myself the baked goods that people bring into the office, or the Hershey's kisses, or the food I see on the menu when I go out.

It's not that I didn't enjoy the low fat, low(er) cal foods I ate last spring and summer; I really did come to a point where I preferred vegetables and water (don't even get me started on water; It's so hard for me to force my daily intake of that to be what it needs to be right now)and fruit to lard, cheese, and a carbohydrates-heavy diet (I am by no means anti-carbs, but too much is not good. everyone knows this).

Anyway, I don't like how I'm feeling these days. I'm trying to be accountable to myself and a few good friends about how I'm eating, and I find that I'm prefacing a lot of my statements with "Well, I'm an awful person, but I ate..." Or my accounts are peppered with rationalizations like "well, I wanted it, so I ate it..." but I don't really mean that. I couldn't possibly, because my tendency is to gloss over or to omit my less than stellar choices.

It's no longer organic for me, as it was last year, to refuse, on principle, foods that are antithetical to progress.

I need a kick start. Unfortunately, it has to come from within,and my internal monologue is not on that track at the moment.

I schlepped to DC, as usual, for class but did not have my usual dinner engagement with Devika. Class itself was lively. It was my turn to present a piece from a poetry journal and I chose a regional one that publishes truly bad work (that was the general consensus, anyway). We had a tremendous time discussing one poem entitled "It Was Raining Diamonds." That is to say nothing of how we anihilated the journal's first prize winner, a highly schmaltzig ode to Cezanne and his apples, but that was really more about the poet's own sense of self-importance. She won $300 for that schlock! We joked about doing a parody of the "diamonds" piece and titling it "It Was Raining Cubic Zirconia."

At work it's all about the deadline. Today is it,and with one coworker out enjoying his new role of father and another out, as of 3:30 yesterday, on vacation we've got a handicap going. Staying late may be in the cards. It's also another coworker's last day. We're all supposed to be going out for happy hour at 5 to wish her well. I see that getting pushed back...but maybe not. Stranger things have happened.

After joining the Sarah-one for a quick meal at Pei Wei on York Road, I went to the gym for a 20-minute elliptical session, then came back home to work on my low cal shrimp salad. I also hit Target.com to bookmark the load of stuff I'm going to be buying from them in a couple of weeks for my new digs... I need so much! And just when I think I've come to the end of my list, I think of something new to add. Like this morning I remembered that I'm going to need a shower curtain (which also means a liner and hooks). My current place has sliding glass doors on the shower (which I hate, incidentally. I'm so glad to be going back to a curtain scenario.). I won't bore you all with a comprehensive list, suffice it to say, mid-April is going to be all about me shelling out dough to one vendor or another.

I'm feeling accomplished because I cranked out the poem I need to turn in for class this Thursday and I've done all my reading for class tonight. I can coast for the rest of the week.

Baby Pool

Last week we thought that a team member's wife was going to have to be induced, but after a morning of tests, it was decided against, for the time being. In a spirit of pure fun, and because there were two other office pools going on (March Madness and American Idol), I thought it would be fun to start a "When Will Coworker's Wife Go Into Labor?" Pool.

Five people, myself included, took an interest. And one of them didn't even put in the requisite two dollars. So, feeling somewhat lame, I plowed ahead and didn't ask too many questions about the lack of participation. To each his own, etc. The dates I picked were March 29th and April 1st.

Today, when one of the handful of participants showed up to put in her money, she mentioned, casually, that some "people" had an issue with this particular pool because of the "personal component." Or so she had been hearing. Apparently, because it involves a baby, it's not right. Or something. So, I asked, "But they do know it's the date we're betting on--simple probability, not really the baby himself, right?" She shrugged her shoulders and gave me the money.

Not long after this, Coworker informed me and a few others, on his way out, that they are inducing his wife today. In light of that happy news and the utter lack of team spirit, I decided to give everyone her money back. I would have been the closest, but among the participants, there was a small debated about what "closest" meant. I was not going to quibble over nonsense. Of course, inducing isn't the same as delivering. For my money (my figurative money, at this point), that baby is coming tomorrow.

Just checking in briefly to say that the lease signing went well. I'll have to pick up keys on Friday (the proper copies hadn't been made) and give the prorated rent for March (yesterday through Friday, very small amount, comparitively speaking). I paid one full month's rent for April already as part of the lease signing.

I was surprised to note, that according to my lease, my apartment is allowed an occupancy up to 4 people (adults, I'm assuming). I remembered that it was big, but seeing that concrete number underscored just how spacious it is. I haven't seen it on the inside since that first day.

The Week at a Glance

So I began as I always do:

red mug of black coffee; blue bowl of French Vanilla oatmeal; two sausage links.
Checking e-mail with one hand--Devika and I won't meet this week because her dissertation has to be turned around to her advisor; a classmate sent everyone a New York Times article on Proust--a phone call!

I'm thumbing through The Baltimore Review. I'm using it for my journal presentation in Class this week. I'm going to present a couple of poems that I think are crap to prove how arbitrary the publication of poetry can be.

On the way to work I popped in Mos Def's first, full-length album "Black on Both Sides." Now that I'm parked in my cubicle, it's Kanye's "Late Registration." The coffee is still hot. And black. The mug is still red.

Today after work I sign the lease. I am thisclose to something new.

My goals to complete by Friday:

Apply for at least one new job

Rip about 30 more CDs to iTunes

Finish outline for my next article

Prepared

This is the second Sunday in a row that I've taken advantage of my free time to cook meals, in whole or in part, for the week, and I'm not sure why I've never done it before.

I have two lovely pieces of beef in the oven browning in olive oil and balsamic vinegar; I'm roasting carrots, too; Texmati rice and Inca Red quinoa are on the stove top; spinach and portabella mushrooms are already in a container in the frige. I took care to brown up some chicken breakfast sausage links, and I used the avocado that was in the perfect stage of ripeness to make guacamole. While I was at it I whipped up enough tropical smoothie from a frozen fruit melange to have first thing in the morning (I wake up ravenous, but don't eat my oatmeal and sausage till I get to the office). I still have another portion and a half of the linguini, and I am committed to eating it all tonight. But truth be told, I'm not very hungry. The guac was very satisfying (it was my late afternoon snack). I'm in the mood for a mango and not much else.

Sarah and I packed up my floor to ceiling china cabinet (built into the wall in my kitchen) this weekend, so much progress has been made. In the midst of my food prep extravaganza, I'm also ripping as my many CDs to iTunes as possible so that those can be packed up next weekend, with a few exceptions, perhaps. It's also my goal to pack up glasses, mugs, bowls, plates, and all other pots and pans next weekend. At that point, I'll be transitioning to a lot of prepared foods and paper plates and plastic ware. The kitchen, for all intents and purposes, will be closed till I get to the other side.

Tomorrow after work I sign the lease!

I am so glad that I made the decision to go down to dc even though I didn't have class last night. I have been wanting to have an uninterrupted visit with Devika for several weeks now. We began at the National Geographic Society where we saw the Archipelagos (think sea-life portraiture) and Geisha/Kimono Exhibits. It was fun to walk through the Archipelagos exhibit especially, because we each gave our impressions of what each animal or species was "thinking" or how they came across in the photographs. There was one fish that D said looked like an old man and another, beside that one, that looked more like "playa," and still another that called a drag queen to mind.

Once back at her place she poured me a glass of the most delicious red wine and we chatted while she chopped up garlic and seared spicy Italian sausage for our pasta. Broccolini completed this delicious, rustic meal. Turkish coffee and chocolate croissants were the perfect dessert.

What I love most about our conversations is that there are no gaps! The conversation is so free-flowing and kind of rapid-fire.

I was back home by 9:45. The train ride back was uneventful (which is what one would hope). Now I'm at the office and things have been busy, busy, busy this morning. I'm on day 3 (or is it 4?) of the whole wheat linguini leftovers. It's still good, and I'm proud of myself for making one meal last for the whole of a work week, but it's getting tiresome. I think there's one more helping's worth. I'll have it for dinner before going out to see Sarah's coworker's band perform at Dangerously Delicious Pies.

Mounting "Evidence"

Your Job Dissatisfaction Level is 52%

Well, you don't have the worst job in the world, but it's not great. And don't worry, you're not the problem - your company is. Start looking around for another job, even if you're not totally fed up. Because in time, you're going to be dying to quit!

Should You Quit Your Job?

Clearly, it's another night for tests, tests, and more tests...

Your Five Variable Love Profile

Propensity for Monogamy: Your propensity for monogamy is high. You find it easy to be devoted and loyal to one person. And in return, you expect the same from who you love. Any sign of straying, and you'll end things. Experience Level: Your experience level is medium. You probably have had a couple significant loves. And you may have even had your heart broken. But you haven't really dated a wide variety of people. Dominance: Your dominance is medium. You tend to be the one with more power. You aren't a total control freak in relationships.. But of course you don't mind getting you way! Cynicism: Your cynicism is low. You are an eternal optimist when it comes to love and romance. No matter how many times you've been hurt - you're never bitter. You believe in one true love, your perfect soulmate. And if you haven't found true love yet, you know you will soon. Independence: Your independence is high. You don't need to be in love, and sometimes you don't even want love. Having your own life is very important for you... Even more important than having a relationship.

The Five Variable Love Test

Ha!

You Are an Iced Coffee

At your best, you are: hyper, modern, and athletic At your worst, you are: cheap and angsty You drink coffee when: you're out with friends Your caffeine addiction level: medium

What Kind of Coffee Are You?

Your Love Life Secrets Are

Looking back on your life, you will only have one true love. You've been deeply wounded in the past, and you're still recovering from that hurt. You expect a lot from your lover - you want the full package. You tend to be very picky. In fights, you speak your mind and don't hold back. You know you're right, and you can get quite angry about it. A break-up usually comes as a shock to you. You always think things are going well.

Your Love Life Secrets, Revealed

What today has meant...

Black Cherry Vanilla Diet Coke for the first time; an introduction to Fleming & John; A coworker's wife's induced labor; a close professional encounter with editor boy (proximity, I've rediscovered, is often the culprit of intrigue); me sending out meeting notes; me applying lotion to my hands every five minutes; eating vegetables and a chaste turkey sandwich; coming to the conclusion that if given the opportunity, i'll take the leap...

I looked up Cro-Magnon on Wikipedia this morning because I kept wanting to use it as an adjective, or really, rather more as a simile to describe editorboy's walk. I wanted to type "Editorboy walks like a Cro-Magnon man," but I realized I didn't know if that was actually accurate.

As it turns out, the Cro-Magnon species of the upper Paleolithic period, was a rather graceful iteration of Homo Sapien. Many people, according to Wikipedia, are thinking of the Neanderthal when they say Cro-Magnon.

In any case, I am not stating, by any means of twisted logic that eb is neanderthalesque. But his gait is odd and somewhat primitive-looking. He's not a big man at all, but there's a solidity and compactness to his build (much like the Neanderthal) that calls to mind very early man.

Wow. It really does seem like I'm insulting this guy. I assure you I am not.

Do I need a building to fall on me?

the latest in the announcements of those leaving? my direct manager.

Stocked Fridge

For the last several months I've been grocery shopping piecemeal. A few items one day, a few a couple of days later. Occasionally I'd buy enough for a week at a stretch, but that was considered a "haul."

Before that I shopped the way my mother always did when I was growing up. Enough food for an entire month with sidebar trips to the market as needed in between. There are benefits to both methods, and now I remember why I always preferred doing the "big shop" in the past.

It gives such a feeling of satisfaction to look into one's pantry, freezer, and refrigerator and know that there is plenty to eat and plenty to offer. It gives one options, variety, and the ability to plan way ahead.

Tonight, while watching "Grey's Anatomy" I made a low cal shrimp salad which I separated into two separate containers for lunch two days this week; I browned ground turkey, sauteed garlic, and got the sauce started for tomorrow night's whole wheat linguini meal; I made an entire package of turkey sausage links to go with my packet of oatmeal for breakfast every day this week; I threw out old stuff that I knew I wouldn't eat before the move (including mostly empty bottles of alcohol that had been in my cabinet for at least a year or more); I consolidated condiments. Finally, I had a nightcap of the leftover Naked Mighty Mango and Apricot nectar Sarah gave me, mixed with a little vanilla vodka, and a few cubes of ice to make it cold.

I've unpacked my clean laundry (Sarah's been great about letting me do it at her place since she has a washer and dryer in her apartment); I'm in my pjs, and now at about quarter past midnight I'm ready for bed. And even though I'll get precious little sleep, I'm feeling so settled.
I'm glad Sarah and I skipped the newcomer's reception at church to take care of some practical stuff. I can't imagine how much going would have set us back.

We had a terrific time at Kim's on Saturday. Her little one took to us like a duck to water. What an adorable little boy...and her dog, well, she pretty much won my heart with her desperate need for affection and cuddling. I cannot resist a human or an animal who is unabashed in his (or her, in the dog's case) desire to be near me. Kim is looking tremendous. It was so easy to be with her and talk with her--as though not a day had passed. She and Sarah had never met before, but Sarah loved her. We were there for about 6 hours!

Now I just have to get Sarah and Devika in the same room. I know that will be instant chemistry as well.

Today I'm going to hang out with Jackson's Mom for the first time in about 3 and a half years. We met through the job I had prior to my current one, and we bonded when were both assigned to a crap post at a government agency. Sarah and I are going to drive north and west (??) of Baltimore to see her in her neck of the woods. I am looking forward to meeting her dog, cats, and her son, of course.

Last night I got together with E. We went to Bennigan's for a late dinner (I had a hair appointment right after work). The meatloaf I got was very very good. I never expect much from franchise establishments, so when something is above par, it's really a delight.

While I wait for Sarah to show up I'm listening to Marvin Gaye's "Distant Lover" from the "Let's Get It On" album, which is among my top 5 albums of all time. I enjoy voices that have a little tear in them, something ragged with yearning. He did that so well. The song progresses in such a way that he is losing control of his emotions in increments. The tight melody and harmony hums along in perfect time, then he begins to interject little substitutions and interjections... things like "Lord, Have Mercy," after a verse... but by the third verse, he's taken the leash off his voice all together. He asks this woman, Do you want to hear me scream and plead... plead?

Nobody does it like that anymore.

Obsessive Listening

So yesterday I actually went into the office in lieu of working from home. I still left at about two to meet up with Devika prior to my class (we did Ethiopian food!) for dinner, which was, as usual, a treat.

But while still at the company store editing away, editor boy visited my cube and asked, "Do you like Radiohead?" I indicated that I did, so he handed me a CD he had "incorrectly" burned or something. I know the feeling. You make a mistake on a burn and that's it. No do overs. You throw it out or, and now I know this, you pass it on to your amiable coworker...

This has really been a week for obsessive listening to whatever song is moving me at the moment. I happen to have four or five that I can't live without. Heavy rotation. They are Mos Def's "The Panties" (that's right, the panties, but please note: the song never even once mentions this slightly embarrassing word.), Matthew Good's "We were hunting rabbits," and about three different songs from Leela James's album.

So, yesterday, when I was DC bound and sleeping, after about 15 successive listens to Mos Def's Marvin Gaye-sampled love groove (baby, slow down, we're gonna be here for a while, okay?), I stuck in the atmospheric Radiohead (tres conducive to sleeping)... so disembodied and ethereal. A few times I woke up thinking "who am I again?" and then I would go back to sleep.

On the way back home last night I was too tired to sleep. So it was me and Mos Def again. Him telling me to slow down, take my time, because we were going to be here for a while...

Dear Baltimore,

My unpretentious lover who doesn't shame me when I have spinach in my teeth, teaches me to ease into your straightforward rhythms, find the complications hidden in your facade of accessibility, adore your paradoxes, your humble beginnings; you winning underdog, you post-industrial hovel, your calloused fingertips run the length of my spine, your sure hands at the small of my back hover; Your breath is stale coffee, your lips a smirk that so easily form a kiss; you chain-smoking, disenfranchised day laborer with cuffed jeans and a black skull cap; you sad bastard who loves the untamed wildness in me that I've held back, pushed in, and stuffed up...so large, lousy with loose ends, mad with cursed yearning, what I want to say is it will never be over between us...

I didn't, as I told myself I would, finish my paper for class this week; I did, however, organize all of my papers and handouts for both classes. I also read over my syllabi to to get arms around the balance of the semester, and I formed a mental outline for some upcoming assignments. I also revised one of two poems I need to turn in this week. I'll start the paper during my lunch hour today and it will be ready to turn in on Wednesday.

This balmy weather put me in such a fabulous mood that I could not wait to get to the gym after work yesterday; I practically ran all the way to the rec center. And when I got there it was all zone. I went for an extra little walk around campus afterward.

A coworker of mine, this time someone who is crucial to our team's success, has accepted another position and so will be giving her notice today. I have been very invested in this process on her behalf as I gave her a peer reference and was unconflicted about doing so. She has a tremendous work ethic. But I do wonder how this news will go over...

You know, I'm past certain things. But I still have moments, that sometimes last for the better part of the day, in which I'm aware of a phantom pain in a phantom limb. Absence is a presence all its own.

About a year ago, when I was in the thick of my own personal grief--when it was impossibly fresh--I had an epiphany: There would come a time when I would not be in that raw place of mourning, when I would care less than I could imagine possible, for this person, the hopes I attached to him, and the sadness of that leveled me more than my feral sorrow over dashed dreams and urequited love.

More often than not, now, I'm aware that this point of true detachment looms ahead. And I am not of the mindset that I should avoid or delay it in any way, but...

it is still crazy to me that after all of everything.... 'everything' simply being the friendship, the parts of it that were pure and good (and I can still see such parts of it, though they are elusive and shift in certain kinds of light.), that he is among the names and faces of men I no longer wish to know.

I finished Henry James' The Beast in the Jungle. I may have judged him as "a big bore" too quickly. I found that I was impatient with the circuitous syntax and the heavy-handed language, but I can see now that this jumbled, beating about the bush form of expression mirrors the protagonists thought processes. It's a clever little piece, but all the same, I don't know that I'm ready to read any other James works in the near future.

I decided to e-mail guy number 2 of the casual message/no photograph fame. I essentially wrote to thank him for his kind remarks and for his note, but stated quite frankly that I would need to to see a photograph and know something more about him before I would be able to determine whether a correspondence is something I'd want to invest in. I explained to him that he currently has the benefit of knowing what I look like and something about me (based on my now defunct profile on Friendster), but that I didn't have the same benefit.

I actually have peace about the whole situation now. I didn't feel right about not acknowledging him at all, but I also couldn't let him think that he was going to get the benefit of some e-mail discourse with me before I can determine some basics. I've heard nothing back at this point.

Well, I'm off to Annapolis for the day! And then later church. Gosh, but it's gorgeous out!

New [to me] Music.

Big love to Sarah for hooking me up with a couple of new[ish] songsters. She brought over Ray LaMontagne who has traces of Otis Redding and a little vintage Kenny Loggins (that is pre "FootLoose" Kenny Loggins) in his voice and Leela James, who is the female Anthony Hamilton, whom I adore and who also has a new album. Definitely listen to any samples that are available on these sites. If you like soul with a little country thrown in (in LaMontagne's case), or soul with a little black Baptist church, and some arresting beats (in the cases of James and Hamilton), then you'll like this stuff.

Oh, and major props to Leela for doing a No Doubt cover ("Don't Speak") r&b style while totally maintaining the song's integrity. I have always believed that music, like people, is spectral... it all flows from one origin point. The various expressions are nuances and textures, but it all goes back to one place, and the more of the different genres you listen to, the more you can hear all in the one.

"I assume you're referring to women's troubles..."
--Mr. Hall in "Clueless"

This is not a post in which I, your faithful Kate Krupnik, will give too much information. Not my style. Suffice it to say, there are times when my emotions get the better of me and I do things like cry during poignant scenes of a syndicated "Judging Amy" episode; become irrationally, principally angry at a person I don't know for something like the inherent hypocrisy of not posting a photo on a Web site and then hitting on me because he likes my photo (that is hypocritical, but my response is probably inordinant); essentially, the bear in my heart wakes up from its nap, and well... let's just say I'm not fit for company.

Now then, moving on from that.

For a number of practical reasons I'm not DC bound today, and that just feels weird. But I know I'm going to get a lot of work done, both personal and business-related. I have so much reading to do for my non poetry workshop class, and a paper to write, and so much packing. Hopefully next Thursday the weather will be as lovely as it is today so Devika and I can meet for Ethiopian food under ideal conditions. Neither of us likes the cold.

Listening to Ella Fitzgerald is good for me. It's hard to be an irritable bee-yatch with that buttercream pearl voice swirling around you.

Unsolicited

Yesterday I got not one, but two e-mails from perfect strangers wanting to know if I'd like to get to know them better. The first was from a young man who found my profile through my e-mail provider, the other from one of those networking sites that I'm only on because a friend invited me to participate. I literally never go to the thing, and I certainly don't send people I don't know messages seeking friendship or any other type of relationship, so it's easy for me to forget that I have it. Anyway...

The first guy was, how shall I put this...? Overzealous. And all of 26. He provided some height/weight specs and padded his missive with CAPS and exclamation points!!!

It all adds up to: Um, no.

The second man, to his credit, sent a much more casual note, but did manage to work in some important details. For example, he has a house that he likes to work on in his spare time. And... he used a somewhat non-cliched word to describe my smile, which will not yield him a date, but did get him a few points from the editor in me. No picture, though, and no specs.

It still all adds up to: No

I decided, a few months ago, against meeting a potential romantic partner via the Internet. It's just not my speed. In addition to the fact that everyone who is looking to date via services like match.com, EHarmony, etc., seems really desperate to me; I never find that the kind of man I want to meet is the kind of man who wants to meet me, based solely on a photograph.

And while these two gentlemen from yesterday meant well, I'm sure, hearing from them was disheartening. Am I being totally unrealistic? Is it wrong to think that I can have the kind of man I'd really want to be with? Or, is it time I realized that guys like the overexuberant 26 year old or this 38 year old who didn't post his photo on a photo-driven site, are as good as its going to get?

Snuggly

After a long workout I came home and started dinner then got into a really hot shower. I ate dinner in my bathrobe with a towel wrapped around my head. At some point I'll put on some pajamas, but I'm enjoying my current outfit for the time being.

I'm essentially biding my time until the Sex and the City reruns on TBS at 9...but I'm so tired I might not make it through both episodes.

The Case of the Missing Sausage Links

My Glad container, with a post-it attached, was sitting on my desk this morning waiting for me. Essentially, a much-liked coworker of mine had brought in sausages a few weeks ago, thought mine were they, and that they were old, and tossed them. She asked to be forgiven and noted that she owes me lunch. I e-mailed her and told her that I am a) relieved that this was an honest mistake and not a theft, and b) that what the sausages work out to is about 3 dollars--by no stretch of the imagination a whole lunch.

I'm very glad that the note I sent out yesterday asked a question about my food and didn't make an erroneous statement. Even when an assumption is reasonable, it still may not be right. Yesterday I was convinced that someone stole my food, but I didn't want to come off as a loose cannon anger ball in an office-wide e-mail, so I tempered myself. Because I took that tactic, I didn't inadvertently make someone who made an honest mistake feel worse.

All's well that ends well.

Um...

so someone stole some food of mine from the fridge. I sent out as non accusatory an e-mail as possible asking about its whereabouts, but yeah... gone.

This is what it's like after you leave a place

Remarkably similar to the way it was before you left. I've wondered, in the past, "what was the office at my old job like the day after I walked out the doors for the last time?" As someone who has seen a lot of coworkers come and go in the last three months (including one more today--leaving of his own accord for greener pastures), what always amazes me is how the steady hum of CPUs, the constant clacking of keyboard keys, the slow drip of the coffeemaker, and the swish of trousers and khakis as people quickly walk down the hall to get to meetings, does not change one iota. And if anyone misses the departed, there is no indication. Within a week's time, they barely remember so-and-so who used to sit by the printer. Someone else starts shouldering your responsibilities and pretty soon no one can remember a time when that person didn't do your job.

It may be different in more specialized professions, but at the company store, well...

This is not a sad post, by the way. It just actually helps me to know that someday in the not-too-distant future, I'll be moving on, and that no one here will miss a beat because of it. There's an appropriate sense of detachment in that.

There is the scene in Jerry MaGuire where the office is suspended as he makes his awkward good-bye, a timid Renee Zellwegger trailing behind him. No one moves a muscle. And as soon as the glass doors shut behind them, the drones return to the frenzy without giving any thought to what just happened, because they don't have the luxury of overanalyzing one man's and one woman's departure.

Nowhere to run, Nowhere to hide....

If you're not into the pomp and circumstance of the Academy Awards, but want to relax in front of the television on the show's big night, there is literally no escape. Sunday night is usually slim pickings in TV land, but I cash in at 10 p.m. with Grey's Anatomy. Not tonight. Preempted by the pomp and the circumstance.

You would think the other networks would try. The WB, for its part, is serving up an edited, bleeped-out version of "8 Mile," which could be a contender for those who a) haven't already seen it, and b) don't mind watching a bleeped-out version of a film that has enough curse words that the bleeps could drive them bleeping crazy!

I took a little break from packing to watch three films at Sarah's place that I'd been meaning to see: "Elizabethtown," "In Her Shoes," and "Walk the Line." All of them were entertaining. "In Her Shoes" was better than I thought it'd be (I read the book, which was fine, given the genre), but "Walk the Line" is definitely worth seeing. It begs the question, though. Were there no music powerhouses that didn't have a major drug addiction at some point in their lives?

I did skip the happy hour yesterday. As it turns out, the coworker who was fired was let go on reasonable grounds--not based on his performance, but based on certain improprieties. Arthouse Cinema wanted to leave anyway, so his decision to make yesterday his last wasn't impacted at all by that news.

As for me, I had groceries I wanted to deal with, boxes to bring up from my storage unit, and I was really in the mood to go out to dinner with Sarah--and the overall mood of my company is still what it is, so I couldn't muster up the good spirits to join them for drinks.

I'm pretty proud of all I was able to do last night in a relatively short period of time. I brought up the old computer I want to give to charity (some files have to be removed from it beforehand), all of the kitchen appliance boxes I saved, and other boxes that can be put to general use. My apartment, at this point, is ready to be broken down.

Preparing for a move, as I've discussed before, is actually a lot of fun for me. And I like unpacking, too, and so do it fairly quickly. The unsettling part is that time of limbo before you've made the attachment to the new space and figured out how things need to be in that new space.
After two years my current living space has definitely taken on a shape, and my things have a personality in this apartment that will change when they are housed elsewhere. I always find that some of my stuff looks foreign to me when I first unpack it. And I feel foreign, too.

Well enough of such maudlin preoccupations. I have to rise up and meet the day.

Two more people have left the building

I returned to work this morning to find out that a coworker got the ax yesterday. This person was not on my team, or technically in my department, but he worked closely with us on many projects--including a very recent one. I can't imagine what happened, but his dismissal has caused a good friend of his, a one Mr. Arthouse Cinema, to decide to jump ship as well. Arthouse is not a vested (read: permanent) employee and has never wanted to be, so he's cutting his losses. He was just telling me a week or so ago that he saw his time here coming to an end. When they sacked his friend, he decided that now is as good a time as any, I guess. I just got back from his good-bye sushi lunch. No one in authority yet knows that he won't be back. He's going to lower the boom at the end of the day.

We are supposed to have a celebratory happy hour this evening for having completed our last big project, courtesy of the upper eschelon, but I hadn't been feeling it. I came in this morning already having decided that I was not going to attend. I think this clenched it.

I feel like a zombie. I got in at midnight last night and went to bed almost immediately, knowing full well that when my alarm went off at 5:30, I would wish I was someone else. Brutal. It doesn't help that I am too keyed up to sleep on the train on the way home. I tried to read some of Joseph Conrad's "Heart of Darkness" (for my short story class) on the way back, but I couldn't focus. If I didn't have a morning meeting I would have seriously considered calling in sick.

The best part of my Thursdays, as you all know, is my visit with Devika. Her hospitality is wide and deep. She prepared a delicious meal of breaded chicken breast, her famous version of macaroni & cheese (with gruyere!), and aspiration--this delicious, but slightly trippy vegetable hybrid (broccoli that aspires to be asparagus). Upon my arrival she presented me with a perfectly chilled glass of white wine, and we got right into the rhythm of invigorating conversation. Nothing is idle or wasted with her. Just pure substance. Honestly, I worry that I'm talking too fast sometimes, or talking with my mouth full (I had seconds of everything last night!) because I am so enjoying the company and the food. When you are with someone so generous and so well-balanced as my dear friend, you find that it changes the cast of everything else, too. As for me, I feel that I open up a bit more and feel free to embrace my penchant for sensuality. The specific smells of foods, the sound of deep, unguarded laughter... the heat and swirl--the rich taste of the Turkish coffee or Chai she makes. When a friend prepares to welcome you with love, the only response is to be greedy, and just take it all in. It's the appropriate return of such lavish, extravagant generosity.

And this woman is whip-smart and funny and I leave her feeling like I can go to my often less-than-stellar class because my tank is so full.

I am really going to miss this place

It's a lovely, overcast Thursday morning. After my workout I came home and ate some lacklustre organic oatmeal with honey and set about my work day. Two hours later, I was famished, so I went up the block to Old Faithful to get a house omelette (spinach, cheese, tomatoes, and sprouts) that comes with multi-grain toast and seasoned potatoes. I saved the toast though, and got a carrot ginger muffin, instead. A cup of black coffee and I was on my way...

I gotta tell ya, I'm a real winner sometimes, people. I took the trouble to buy some chicken cutlets, green onions, and portabella mushrooms to make for dinner last night (with Inca red quinoa, and spinach, maybe) but forgot to take the items home! I left them here at work in the fridge, where I know they'll be fine...but yesterday a coworker offered me a ride home, which is arguably so much better when one has groceries to transport.

Now today I have the added complication of having to go to the bank on my lunchbreak to get some money out to then take to the leasing agent. It's a bit of a headache because my debit card has a limit on how much money I can take out within a 24-hour period (and I am grateful for the cap; I get that it protects me, ultimately), and I need more than I can withdraw via ATM... so, anyway, I am sure that this will involve at least one cab ride. But if I can get this all dealt with midday, then I can just go straight home from work, with my chicken that I won't have time to cook because it's a class night...

This is what being occasionally forgetful can do! Totally derail the best laid plans.

But... this is the time for perspective and rallying.

1. I had and have the money to buy food.
2. I have a job at which to forget said food.
3. I have this "headache" of having to go to the bank because I got the apartment!
4. As one who almost never takes a full-on lunch break, I am entitled to a slightly longer lunch to run an errand.
5. After this is taken care of, I can move on to other things!