Steelers Fans...

If any of yinz have any audio files of Steelers songs, can you e-mail them to me, or give me a link to where I can find them on the internet? I fully intend to annoy my co-workers on Friday.

Request

Hey. I was reading on the blog of a seminiarian about his J-term experience in an emerging church community in Seattle and I was intrigued.

I'm familiar with the concept of the emerging church, but I was always leery of it because it seemed so...unstructured. But after reading his blog, I'm thinking I feel more positively toward it. It sounds like, at least at this community, they get that the Church really is just the people of God, and that liturgy is the "work of the people." They just apply it differently.

So if anyone happens across this entry and has any suggestions of books/websites where I can read more about the emerging/postmodern church, leave me a comment.

Thanks!

I'm Awake

At 5 a.m. for no apparent reason. In fact, I've been awake since 2:15 a.m. for no apparent reason. Sigh.

So, my last post...Yeah. I had an allergic reaction to both the antibiotic I was taking for the staff infection, and the adhesive on the new dressing my manager tried using since I had so much drainage. I had hives from my scalp down to my thighs. I still have the last vestiges of them. Miserable only begins to cover it. But at least I don't itch or look like a leper any more. Hopefully, the patches on my face will fade before I go to Atlanta next week so that I can wear make up.

Did I mention that I was stuck...I mean honored to go to Atlanta next week? Apparently everyone in the company whose original hire date falls in first quarter has to go renew our company spirit. I would much rather stay home and work for the company than waste my time with this, but oh well.

Today's the day I go to get my lymph nodes evaluated. I'm nervous, but I know it's something I don't have any control over, and there is no use obsessing about it. That's a change for me. Don't know if it's the medication or the therapy, or a combination, but it's a good thing.

Oh, medication. Before I started taking the steroid to get rid of the hives, my doctor re-checked my blood for the thyroid hormones. The steroid apparently interferes with the test, and since I was due to get them checked this week anyway, she went ahead and did it that day. Well, the levels have actually gotten worse instead of better. She wasn't expecting that. She was expecting that she'd have to increase the dosage of the medication, but she was expecting to see some improvement or at least stabilization. She's not sure what the deal is, but if it happens when she checks it again in 6 weeks, I'll have to see an endocrinologist. Joy.

So how 'bout those Stillers? I'm not particularly a football fan, but I think that there is something imprinted in your genetic material that makes you a Steelers fan when you are born in Western PA. I'll actually be going to a Super Bowl party as a result. I'm very excited to wear the black and gold. Now if only I could find my Terrible Towl. I think it got left behind at St. Al's Church and Country Club.

Boy, I haven't written about that place in a long time. I've kind of put it to the back of my mind, even though I get frustrated whenever I read their bulletin. I don't know why I don't just ask them to take me off their roles, especially in light of what I'm about to write about.

[Deep Breath] Well, I've made the decision to go through the inquirer's class at the church I've been attending in preparation for becoming Lutheran. Yes, I've decided to take that plunge. I know that this will come as a surprise to a few of you who "knew me when," but I think that it is the right choice for me. I feel more welcomed in that little church than I ever have in any Catholic parish I have ever belonged to, even the chapel community at Gannon. I feel like less of a hypocrite theologically speaking as well.

For as long as I can remember, I was basically a devout cafeteria Catholic. I don't think I could have used that terminology, but I first realized it in 4th grade when I got punished for saying that I didn't see any reason why girls couldn't serve at the altar, since they did in my mom's church (she was an ELCA Lutheran). I learned at that point to just quietly accept what I could accept and reject what I couldn't. Everyone was happy as long as I could parrot back the company line on demand when I was in school, and teach the "correct" theology when I taught religion.

But I wasn't happy. It became increasingly difficult to hear God's still, small voice inside me. My own doubts and frustrations were drowning out that quiet whisper. I was angry that my church didn't value my contribution as a single, lay woman as much as it valued a married person, priest, or religious, or in some places even a single, lay man. It pained me to watch the youth ministry in a Church that claimed to value all life intentionally ignore the needs of the quietest in their midst, the ones who didn't quite fit in. And I hated, hated, hated the fact that in the parish where I worked, as well as many, many other parishes I was familiar with, status, money, and connections had more to do with determining your worth than the simple fact that you are a child of God.

Now, I'm not naive enough to not realize that there is some of that in every organization, religious or secular, and that it is an inherant part of the culture of the old South. But that doesn't make it right. I've seen less of that in the small congregation where I've been attending church for hte past year and a half, though. I suppose part of that is because it is such a small congregation (only about 300 members, as opposed to almost 8000), but from everything I've read and experienced, it seems to be a part of the Lutheran culture. There is also far less judgment than I ever experienced in the Catholic church. I have a theory as to why that is, but I'm not going to share it until I'm further into these classes and know more about what I'm talking about.

I suppose I won't know until I die if this is the right choice to make. But I'm pretty well at peace about it. God and I are talking on a regular basis again. I'm remembering how much I've always loved Scripture, and I'm getting back into Bible study. And I feel like even my dad would approve. Fear of disappointing him was what kept me in the Catholic church for so long. But I believe that he would want me to be wherever it is I can find God.

Wow. After a rambling, unfocused start, I eneded up getting pretty deep for having only three and a half hours sleep. I can catch another hour if I fall asleep right now. So until later...

I'm Cranky

I'm itchy, I'm tired, and I don't feel good. It is taking all of my energy to keep from biting people's heads off today. In general, Life Sucks.

Just thought you all should know.

So, I haven't been here for a while, huh?

Oh, I've thought about writing, but then I'll get distracted with something else, and I just never quite got around to it.

So, I guess I should share what's been going on in Sheryl land, huh?

Well, first of all, it doesn't feel like January. There should never be a day where the temperature hits 80 in January. Never, under any circumstances. Just my opinion. Though some of the leaves down here did actually change color this year, so I suppose that's something.

So, the health stuff I've been hinting at. Well, my doctor did prescribe an antidepressant, and it is helping. I'd like to be on it no longer than a year, personally. Anyway, she did a whole bunch of tests and discovered that although my blood count, blood sugar, cholesterol, and insulin levels were normal (that last was a bit of a surprise, though), my thyroid levels were low. So I'm also taking medicine for that. She also found when she did a physical that my thyroid was significantly enlarged. That's where the fun begins.

So because of the enlarged thyroid, she ordered an ultrasound. Well, the ultrasound showed several nodules, but it also showed some lymph nodes that shouldn't have been there. So she ordered a CT scan. Unfortunately, after making me wait forever for the results of the scan, the scan wasn't readable due to an "artefact" on the films right in the area they were concerned with. Basically, that means that either I moved or something was screwy with their machine.

My doctor decided that rather than have the CT scan done again right away, she wants me to see an ENT to have my neck evaluated. She said that most likely it's all due to my thyroid, but it could very well be something else as well. I see him next week.

It just makes me nervous to think about. I mean, I see all kinds of little things that add up into a scary big picture. I'm having tons of skin problems all of a sudden (including an apparent allergy to adhesive tape). I've been having trouble swallowing for over a year now, but I had just chalked it up to my imagination. I realize now that it very well may not be. And last weekend I developed another abscess/staph infection, which meant more draining and packing, and this time the packing really hurt.

My manager, who is an RN, is concerned that there may be some kind of immune thing going on. But that doesn't make any sense considering that I haven't been sick (except for the staph infection and an ear infection) all year. Everyone else in the office has had strep at least once. She said that she would be thinking diabetes if the test results hadn't been completely normal, or HIV infection if there was any chance I had ever been infected (which there isn't). I just don't know what to think.

Regardless, the fact remains that I am scared.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was going to write more on another topic, but I'm tired now. I'll try to write more tomorrow.

You Know What I Think?

I think it is patently unfair to make someone with an anxiety disorder wait more than a week for the results of medical tests that could potentially indicate that something is seriously wrong with them.

I'm just saying.

Don't worry about me, those of you who know me. I'm not going to say anything about any possibilities until I know something for sure. It's probably nothing, and I've picked my cuticles bloody for no good reason (I do that instead of biting my nails - maybe I should go back to doing that instead). Nevertheless, I'm genuinely worried, and the wait is just about killing me.

Still, I know that all I can do is put it in God's hands, and trust that God will handle it even when I can't.

So, if y'all could give a holler to the deity of your choice on my behalf, I'd appreciate it.

Oh, and for all you English majors out there - here is the best part of your degree. I was just watching "Who Wants to be a Millionaire" and there was a question about what meter Dr. Seuss wrote most of his books in. I correctly correctly identified it as anapestic tetrameter.

Yeah. That's a great use of a bachelor's degree.

Quick Note

I've got lots of stuff to write about, though most of it isn't good. I'm not going to write right now, however. I want to wait until I know more about a particular situation.

If I don't get back before Christmas, have a Happy one.

Insight

So, today I had therapy. It is very weird to write that.

In the hour I was there, we came to the conclusion that I have a pleasing people thing. I just want to make people happy in general, and happy with me specifically. And I have an overwhelming fear of rejection.

The therapist asked me to identify where I think that is rooted, and I couldn't pinpoint it. I can tell you various moments in my life, dating all the way back to preschool(!) when I kind of...retreated...further away from people each time I was rejected. And each of those times I seemed to try harder and harder to not do something to stand out, to push myself into the background, and to please people by being low-maintenance.

I've been trapped so long in the pattern of putting other people's needs ahead of my own that I don't quite have any idea how not to do that.

Perfect example. I wasn't planning to go to the company Christmas party tomorrow. I have a doctor's appointment, and social things like that always make me uncomfortable (yes, I am an introvert, as we previously discussed). But as I discovered that there were more people I know going than I thought, I thought about changing my mind. But low and behold, I find out that by boss's boss can't find a sitter. So what do I do? I volunteer to watch her kids. So while everyone is out partying and drinking on the company's dime, I'll be watching Disney movies, coloring, and otherwise twiddling my thumbs.

I am stupid.

Ok. I am not stupid. I had to learn how to counter that particular negative thought today. I'm intelligent and competant. I just don't feel that way a lot of the time.

Quick Note

I go through periods where I tend to try to fix everything in my life all at once. This is not only not possible, but it also is incredibly unhealthy. I know this but I do it anyway.

So, this is just a note to say that if you hear me (well, read me) write anything about graduate school any time in the next...three months or so, smack me. Hard.

Thank you.

I'm Here

That's about all I can say about today.

I'm trying to be more aware of what I'm thinking and feeling lately. And I had a revelation. I have an overwhelming need to please people. There is a big part of me who wants just to make people happy, whatever that takes, and feels guilty when people aren't happy, even if it's something I have no control over and, in fact, have nothing to do with. But, by the same token, I don't think that other people need to do things to make me happy, or make my life more pleasant.

I know that's screwed up thinking. But I have no idea how to fix it. Maybe this therapy thing will help. Maybe drugs will help.

Meh.

300.02

I sometimes envy the medical coding specialists I work with. It's like they can speak a whole other language. When somebody says 434.91, they immediately think "CVA". They throw around V57.1 and 781.2 the way most people say blue or air.

It also depersonalizes medicine. It's no longer a person with an illness, just a number.

Sometimes I think it's easier that way.

That number in the title? That's apparently why I've been a little...erratic lately. I wish it were just a number.

Yeah, I did something completely out of character and actually sought help. Apparently, I have generalized anxiety disorder.

I have to say I was surprised by that. I was expecting depression, but not that. I don't think of myself as an anxious person. I've always thought I was terribly laid back, perhaps even too laid back. But as the therapist explained the symptoms to me,a nd why he thought I fit that criteria, I had to admit to myself that he was spot on. I just didn't realize how...tense I had been, and how anxious I tended to be because it was just such a pattern in my life, and probably has been since I was a little kid. The way I obsess over small mistakes. The way I never think anything I do is good enough. The way I never think I'm good enough. I've had those thought patterns for so long that they've just become a part of who I am. It took someone who hasn't known me forever to point out to me just how screwed up my outlook on life and myself had become.

The therapist also said that either underlying or accompanying the anxiety is a certain amount of depression. He said it's kind of like a chicken and egg thing; there's probably no telling which came first, but now they just feed each other. Lovely.

He also said that it's a good thing I'm seeing my primary care doctor this week. He said drugs might be a good thing. That idea scares me, too. There's a really long and strong history of addiction on both sides of my family. There haven't been many who have been able to avoid it.

{sigh} I wish it were all so simple as changing a few numbers.

All I Want for Christmas - In My Dreams Edition

1. World Peace. A perennial "In My Dreams" entry due to the fact that an awful lot of people are just plain mean.

3. A Big Brother. Impossible without a strange rip in the space/time continuum.

2. A Puppy. Won't happen because of A) My lease. B) My allergies. C) The fact that I am never home.

And yes, I am numerically challenged.

100 Things Meme

These have been popping up all over blogdom lately, so I guess it's my turn.

1. I'm an only child
2. If my parents' first child had lived, and if my mom hadn't miscarried twice, I would have been third of four.
3. My dad was one of eight, and my mom was one of 3, and I am the only only child in the bunch.
4. I have second cousins who are older than me (all of the second cousins on my mom's side (except for one) and two on my dad's )
5. The first book I sort of remember being read to from was a big, huge Sesame Street book with lots of stories and activities.
6. I can only remember my dad reading to me once. My grandmother (Mum's mum) was in the hospital and my dad took me to the library across the park to entertain me (I was four or five). I don't remember the book, except that it had a boat in it, but I do remember the librarian shushing my dad. He got a little too into doing voices for the various characters.
7. The first book I read myself was the Sesame Street Cooperation book. My dad bought it for me at Revco, again to entertain me when my grandmother was in the hospital. I was sitting on the floor of the backseat of our Buick (one of my favorite places) and I started to read. Mum thought Daddy read the book to me in the store and I memorized it (something I was well-known for, apparently), but he hadn't.
8. I learned what a skate key was from that book.
9. Despite the fact that I love reading and writing, English and Language Arts were never my favorite subjects in school.
10. I majored in English anyway.
11. When I was very young, I believed that every church was literally God's House (something Catholic parents regularly teach their children - minus the literally part). Every time we'd pass a church with a man sitting on the steps, I declared that it was Jesus sitting on the porch of his Daddy's house.
12. Sometimes I wish I had never outgrown that belief.
13. I went through a period when I was around 7 or 8 when I wanted to change my name to Linda. I thought that was the most glamorous name in the world.
14. I had an imaginary friend named Eddie when I was little. He looked like a worm and lived in the walls of my room. At night, he and his little worm friends would put on puppet shows for me before I went to sleep.
15. Yeah, I had a vivid imagination.
16. I used to eat butter right off the butter dish.
17. I would then follow it by drinking lemon juice right out of the squeezy lemon in the refrigerator.
18. I never learned to ride a bike.
19. I did, however, learn to roller skate, and I used to be able to roller skate backwards.
20. I can't anymore.
21. I had a mammogram at the age of 11 because I got hit in the chest with a line drive playing softball and my whole breast turned black and blue.
22. It was horribly painful.
23. My coach didn't want to let me come out of the game. He was a...well, insert the epithet of your choice here.
24. I stopped playing softball because of the way he treated me that season. I realize now that it was emotional abuse. I should have realized then because my dad, who came from the, "you finish whatever you start" school of parenting told me I could quit the team if I wanted.
25. I didn't.
26. If you haven't guessed, I come from a long line of doormats.
27. I wish I had been raised to be more assertive.
28. I seriously considered killing myself when I was in eighth grade.
29. I've never told anyone that before, not even my Mum.
30. I have a tendency to be more emotionally honest and open in writing, even if someone I know is reading it.
31. I'm afraid of silence.
32. I'm even more afraid of dark silence.
33. I at peanut butter sandwiches for lunch every day for two straight years in sixth and seventh grade.
34. I haven't eaten one since.
35. I guess there is such a thng as too much of a good thing.
36. My first dog, Muffy, ran away the summer before first grade. We think the mailman left the front gate open, but even if he did, it was weird for Muffy, who was the best dog ever, to leave the yard.
37. We had to give our last dog, Harvey, away. My dad got her when I went away to college, but I came home to discover that I had developed an allergy to dogs that was almost as bad as my allergy to cats.
38. My dad loved that dog. I always wondered if giving him up hastened his illness and death.
39. I still feel vaguely guilty about that.
40. I'm attracted to baseball catchers and hockey goalies. I think I have a thing for masks.
41. In fact, I harbored secret fantasies that Mike Lavallier would leave his wife and fall madly in love with me.
42. Guess that isn't such a secret fantasy anymore.
43. The first time I opened a Bible I was six and my mom showed me hers.
44. The next time I opened a Bible was seventh grade. We had one class on the Bible, in between learning about the seven deadly sins and how God loves us but we are going to hell anyway.
45. The next time was Confirmation class in ninth grade. I had to write a one page summary of the book of Isaiah
46. The next time was my sophomore year of college, when I learned that it was impossible to write a one page summary of Isaiah because there were at least two and possibly three distinct writers of Isaiah.
47. Amazingly, Isaiah is my second favorite book in the Old Testament, despite that experience.
48. My favorite Old Testament book, and in fact my favorite book in the Bible is Jeremiah, because he had the guts to yell at God, and despite the fact that he thought God and pretty much screwed him, he followed through with his calling and he never really lost faith.
49. I sometimes wonder what would happen if I went back to St. Al's CCC for Mass some weekend. I have visions of being escorted out of the church.
50. I have a secret desire to dye my hair some outlandish color.
51. Guess that isn't so secret aymore, either.
52. I broke the same bone in my foot two different times in five different places. The bone is all of about two inches long.
53. The first time, I was practicing the Mexican hat dance ion the doorway of our living room for our Girl Scout troop's performance in the council's international festival so I wouldn't bother my dad while he watched the news. I walked on it for a week before the pain got to be so bad I couldn't stand it. I was in a cast and on crutches for 10 weeks.
54. The second time I was walking down the steps of the mens' wing in the Kirk House the day we came back from Thanksgiving break my sophomore year of college. I had gone upstairs to see the quasi-obscene pictures one of my housemates had drawn on the chalkboard up there, and as I was walking down the stairs, I suddenly found myself at the bottom of the steps on the floor. I still don't know how that happened. I waited a week before I went to student health, because I was afraid I didn't have health insurance, and I wasn't sure what would happen if I had to see a specialist or go to the hospital.
55. Well, that and my fear of health care providers.
56. I avoid going to the gynecologist because everytime I find one I like, she leaves the practice. Then the whole crappy cycle has to start over again.
57. Plus, I'm scared to death that a doctor is going to find something seriously wrong with me when I go in for something routine.
58. And if they don't, I feel like I'm wasting their time.
59. Did I ever mention that I started my college career as a pre-med major?
60. I used to be afraid of Santa Claus.
61. In fact, in every picture we have of me sitting on Santa's lap, I'm sobbing like mad.
62. I was so afraid, that I ran away from him at Allegheny Center Mall when I was very little. All I remember is that the security guard found me by the fish tanks in Sears.
63. I adored my Aunt R (my grandmother's baby sister) and Uncle C and used to beg my parents to go over to their house.
64. Conversely, my Aunt V always made me uncomfortable and I used to beg to stay home when we were going to their house, despite the fact that I loved my Uncle L (my mom's middle brother, who was 12 years older than her).
65. Aunt V thought it was OK to give me old catalogs, crappy comics, and the plastic "eggs" that L'eggs pantyhose used to come in for Christmas, while she gave her grandchildren all kinds of brand new toys. At first I was naive enought not to know that was wrong, but even when I did I still told her wonderful the "gifts" were.
66. What she didn't know was that Uncle L always slipped me money every time he saw me.
67. Uncle L also bought me a typewriter in 10th grade so my chemistry teacher wouldn't take point off for my bad handwriting.
68. He never would have admitted it since I was a girl, but he was proud of the fact that I was the first on that side of the family go to college.
69. Even when I am being all emotionally vulnerable, it's hard to come up with 100 things.
70. I once ran myself over with a 15 passenger van.
71. I still have a lump on my leg, 13 years later.
72. I didn't realize until I moved to Louisiana that food was actually supposed to have flavor.
73. Not all food in Louisiana is mouth-burning hot.
74. But having said that, don't eat the potatoes or mushrooms at a crawfish boil. I learned that the hard way.
75. The tomb they used to put on the back altar of my church in Pittsburgh on Good Friday really creeped me out.
76. The risen Jesus they put there on Easter creeped me out even more.
77. Another secret fantasy of mine is to one day have a really good mattress topped by ridiculously high thread count sheets.
78. I'm a texture slut. I've bought sweaters I don't really like before just because they were soft. When I was little, I used to embarrass my mom because I would hike up my skirts so that I could finger the silky slip underneath.
79. I still do that on the rare occassions I wear a slip, but I've learned to be more discreeet.
80. It is very hard for me to ask for help with anything. Ever.
81. It is very hard for me to accept help when it is offered.
82. Somewhere in the back of my mind I think that needing help is a sign of failure.
83. However, I don't think other people are failures when they ask me for help.
84. I would really like to own a brand new car.
85. I could get my life on track financially (and then some) if I had $50K.
86. Getting my life on track in other respects is a whole 'nother story.
87. I sometimes wish I had the guts to go to an African American church.
88. I think Finding Nemo is one of the most spiritual movies ever made.
89. I hated the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I feel guilty for admitting that because it was the kind of movie I should like.
90. I wish I had gone to grad school right after I finished college.
91. I always wondered what my life would be like if I had spent grades 1-8 in public school.
92. The first time I realized that I was an introvert was 2nd grade. All the girls in my class were busy forming little circles and talking on the playground at recess. I was perfectly content to stand along the permiter of the playground and just watch. My teacher tried to make them include me, but I always ended up on the outside of the circle - they literally closed me out of the ciricle.
93. I'm an INFP, according to Myers-Briggs.
94. I'm an off the scale I, and a boderline F.
95. My favorite thing to have for dinner is mashed potatoes and corn and broccoli. If I could get enough protein from that, I'd never eat anything else.
96. I once ran over a stop sign at a grocery store shopping center in Erie. I got two flat tires, but I never told anyone why.
97. If I let myself, I could eat Swedish Fish until I made myself sick.
98. Mum made the best cranberry sauce ever. She would make three or four big molds every holiday, including Easter and my birthday (she bought the cranberries in teh winter and froze them). She, my Uncle L and myself (and my grandmother when whe was alive) could make a meal out of just cranberry sauce.
99. As hard as I try, I just don't particularly care about football. I love the Steelers, though.
100. I can't believe I reached a hundred.

And as a bonus

101. It took me almost two hours to write this list.

Thanksgiving

So I suppose I have a lot to be thankful for. I'm relatively healthy (if a little insane), relatively safe, and relatively stable (again, except for the occasional depressive episode and panic attack). Life could be worse, I suppose.

I had chicken cordon bleu (out of a box) for dinner tonight, along with broccoli and cornbread dressing. Didn't eat much of the dressing, though - it was way too moist. I'll stick in a frying pan tomorrow and cook off some of the moisture. I like my stuffing dry, thank you very much.

I made apple brown betty for dessert. I had some leftover apples sitting in brown sugar and apple juice, so I threw them in a pan with a little butter and made a caramel apple sauce. So good.

So I saw this meme on someone's blog - I'm too lazy to link or credit - and I present it to you now.

Take the month and day of your birth and look up that verse in each of the four gospels.

Matthew 5:13 - "You are the salt of the earth. But if salt loses its taste, with what can it be seasoned? It is no longer good for anything but to be thrown out and trampled under foot."

Mark 5:13 - And he let them, and the unclean spirits came out and entered the swine. The herd of about two thousand rushed down a steep bank and into the sea, where they were drowned.

Luke 5:13 - Jesus stretched out his hand, touched him, and said, "I do will it. Be made clean." And the leprosy left him immediately.

John 5:13 - The man who was healed did not know who it was, for Jesus had slipped away, since there was a crowd there.

I find it interesting that all but the first quote are in the context of a healing, and the first one is one of my favorite verses.

God is funny like that, I guess.

The Details

So we flew to Atlanta this week for a one day meeting. Got to fly first class on they way. It was nice, but not nice enough to suddenly make me not hate flying.

This past Monday, I got officially promoted to project manager. What that means is that I'll do most of the stuff I was already doing, give up some of the stuff I hated, and get a raise of $5000. That's nice

You know, I should be thrilled with that. It should have been celebration worthy. But all I can say is "that's nice."

It makes me sad that I can't get excited about good stuff anymore, and that my brain seems to be caught in a perpetual game of "my life would be so much better if only I would have..."

Sigh.

I Get to Fly First Class Today!

And oh yeah, I got promoted.

No Big Shock Here...

You Should Get a MFA (Masters of Fine Arts)

You're a blooming artistic talent, even if you aren't quite convinced. You'd make an incredible artist, photographer, or film maker.

What Advanced Degree Should You Get?

I Have a New Favorite Tea

I've been a Darjeeling person for a long time now. But last night on a whim, I bought 1001 Nights tea from the Origianl Ceylon Tea Company. I made some this morning, and it is really, really good. It's strong, but not overwhelming, and there is just a little hint of strawberry. And I didn't need to use much sugar with it, certainly less than I ususally do.

Just thought I'd share...

Just Checking In...

Letting everyone who cares know that I am still here, marginally all right, and relatively sane (though every online screening I've done says that I'm probably moderately to severely depressed...).

I'm not mad at that guy anymore. It occurred to me this week that the whole business world is brand new to him. He's used to the world of academia, where research projects go on for years, and findings aren't reported until they are absolutely ready. In business, the pressure to produce under deadline is huge, and sometimes the deadlines are pretty damned near impossible. He'll learn eventually.

My NaNovel is coming along nicely. I have about 4300 words. I don't stress about word count the way most wrimos do, though. I just use this as an excuse to commit to daily writing. If I make it, great, if not, that's OK too.

Unfortunately, some folks take things way too seriously. We had a supposedly friendly competition going on with Macon, GA for highest average word count per person. Some nasty things were said to one of our folks by someone in GA, and someone in BR got mad about people with low word counts signing up for the challenge and "diluting" the efforts of the high word count people.

I hate competition.

And Let Me Just Say...

...that it makes me absolutely insane that the person I have to keep re-explaining things to is a PhD and makes twice what I do.

I'm done ranting now. I'm going home to take Advil and eat rice.