May the Good Cheese Be Yours
I was just reading about the dietary effects of various kinds of cheese. If you limit your cheese intake to 2 ounces of full fat cheese per week, you'll be doing yourself a world of good. Now, I live for cheese. I live for hors d'oeuvres, many of which are made with vatfuls of cheese. In fact, I like small food in general... pickles, olives, those really small melba toasts... cover those puppies in cheese and I'm your girl. But in my grand effort to drop some weight before my wedding day (August 24, 2002), I think it's time to forgoe some cheese. Alas. Or move to a low fat cheese. This is what I think about first thing in the morning at work. I think about cheese. And also about how lately I've been eating a muffin every morning--bad! Bad! Bad! Muffins, if you left them on the ottoman, say, would leave a big, fat trail of grease behind. This can't be good for you. And really, it's kind of like having a piece of cake for breakfast every day, no?? Clearly I have some food issues that need to be dealt with. Prep for emergency liposuction!!
Sleepless in Toronto
In further news on the AP wire, I haven't been sleeping well over the last week. Don't know why. Not particularly stressed. Love my new job. My great-uncle is out of the hospital and is actually feeling a bit better. It's not even viciously hot right now. But I still can't, damnitall, sleep. Woke up every two hours last night, like clockwork. To make myself useful, I got up and peed, just so the toilet wouldn't feel ignored. Last night I snapped at my Monkey (that's my future husband to be, for those not in the loop) for absolutely no reason. Well, I guess it seemed reasonable at the time, but this morning I felt like an ass. This is what happens when you're not getting enough REMs each night. I need a holiday, really. I've never had a real holiday in my life. Every bit of traveling or time off I've ever had, I've spent with relatives or gone to visit friends, or to visit whatever guy I was having a doomed-to-fail long-distance relationship with at the time. The energy required! The mileage! The cost!! The lost luggage! Heh. But I've never in my life been on a holiday that was just that--a holiday. One where you go to a semi-decrepit "resort" (because that's all you can afford) and your biggest decision for the day is pool or beach and your only obligation to anyone is to nudge them if they're getting too baked in the sun and are starting to look like a lobstrosity. One where you sit around lazily in a deck chair and forget about your tummy bulge and just happily slurp large rum cocktails out of hairy coconut halves, garnished with paper umbrellas and other lawn furniture. Boat drinks! Sigh. Maybe someday.
Private note to self: buy more lottery tickets. Because gambling really DOES pay.