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Been feeling ill-ish for upwards of a week now. Really starting to bug me, because it means it isn't conveniently PMS, I'm actually fighting something insidiously cootie-like. Given that I work in an effin' HOSPITAL, the buggy-eyed little paranoia tweeker in the back of my head is screaming, while the logical rest of my brain is just going, 'eh, remember to drink water that hasn't been sitting out for days. You'll be fine.'
*headdesk*
And I have a very, very serious craving to run. Like, treadmill or bright-red-bob-with-bra-showing Lola running. Something. My cravings seem to forget that I can't actually BREATHE when I run. Important detail, that. Wah.
Tangent to running, I want to buy myself a ridiculously small MP3 player, just so I can load the Lola Rennt soundtrack onto it and go out, get moving, whatever. The iPod photo I have is too bulky to strap on my arm comfortably, and the earphone jack is too sensitive to put it in my pocket or in a belt pouch - every single movement of the cord makes the sound quality change/jump/hiccup/whatever. Grr. (Admittedly, a small cheap p.o.s. wouldn't be much different, but half the irritation with the iPod is the PRICE of the thing - equipment that expensive oughta be fuckin' bulletproof.)
So. Pondering. Yesh.
Work is... going. The last week has been nothing but accounts payable stuff (and given that I am not in the AP department, really frustrating), so today was admitting defeat to my sup and asking to be left alone to try and catch up. I have a mountain (no exaggeration, here - each pile is a good 2-3' tall) of filing to catch up on, too. Oy. Oddly enough, though, after the cringing sense of shame that killed the morning, a lunch break (and Quizno's binge - I work hard for my thunderthighs!) and crossing stuff off my actual to-do list had me feeling better. It's been a while since that feeling has reared it's fluffy, Aquanet'ed little head in my direction. Usually it's the Ugly Spandex Monster of Not Enough Hours in the Day that's gnawing on my shoulder. Hm.
I swear I haven't been watching Gilmore Girls. o.O::::::::::::::::::::::::::Lorelei is my hero.
*headdesk*
And I have a very, very serious craving to run. Like, treadmill or bright-red-bob-with-bra-showing Lola running. Something. My cravings seem to forget that I can't actually BREATHE when I run. Important detail, that. Wah.
Tangent to running, I want to buy myself a ridiculously small MP3 player, just so I can load the Lola Rennt soundtrack onto it and go out, get moving, whatever. The iPod photo I have is too bulky to strap on my arm comfortably, and the earphone jack is too sensitive to put it in my pocket or in a belt pouch - every single movement of the cord makes the sound quality change/jump/hiccup/whatever. Grr. (Admittedly, a small cheap p.o.s. wouldn't be much different, but half the irritation with the iPod is the PRICE of the thing - equipment that expensive oughta be fuckin' bulletproof.)
So. Pondering. Yesh.
Work is... going. The last week has been nothing but accounts payable stuff (and given that I am not in the AP department, really frustrating), so today was admitting defeat to my sup and asking to be left alone to try and catch up. I have a mountain (no exaggeration, here - each pile is a good 2-3' tall) of filing to catch up on, too. Oy. Oddly enough, though, after the cringing sense of shame that killed the morning, a lunch break (and Quizno's binge - I work hard for my thunderthighs!) and crossing stuff off my actual to-do list had me feeling better. It's been a while since that feeling has reared it's fluffy, Aquanet'ed little head in my direction. Usually it's the Ugly Spandex Monster of Not Enough Hours in the Day that's gnawing on my shoulder. Hm.
I swear I haven't been watching Gilmore Girls. o.O::::::::::::::::::::::::::
