Sunday, April 23, 2006
I'm not liking the blog title much anymore. I think it's time for a change. I have absolutely no ideas.
So, I've been working like, ten to eleven hours a day lately. Frankly, I'm pooped. I have no energy, no motivation, I haven't written anything in about a week-and-a-half. I've been eating pretty poorly (Way too much bread and sugar, not enough fruit and veggies by half). But I did clean out the fridge today and there's all kinds of room in there for spinach and squash and peas and oranges and edamame and tomatoes and . . . whatever else I may pick up at the King if I have more than a half-hour for lunch tomorrow. There was a jar of mayo in the back of the fridge that was dated September 05. And some bread with a November 05 date on it. And red wine all over the bottom of the crisper. And som funky brownish, greenish liquid in with a gladware of veal. I don't know what that was. I don't want to know what that was.
I keep hoping for chickies at work. It is so baby-time. A couple weeks ago, Fatty was working his harem over pretty frequently, and by god, I want some ducklings running around the place right now! The chickens are more discreet, but I'm sure they've been getting up to no good since the hens are dropping eggs everywhere and just leaving them to rot.
Speaking of rot, I think someone at work is dealing with a bad case of woe. At least once a day I walk by the bathrooms and have to hold my breath. That's such a lovely thing to write about, isn't it?
So, I've been working like, ten to eleven hours a day lately. Frankly, I'm pooped. I have no energy, no motivation, I haven't written anything in about a week-and-a-half. I've been eating pretty poorly (Way too much bread and sugar, not enough fruit and veggies by half). But I did clean out the fridge today and there's all kinds of room in there for spinach and squash and peas and oranges and edamame and tomatoes and . . . whatever else I may pick up at the King if I have more than a half-hour for lunch tomorrow. There was a jar of mayo in the back of the fridge that was dated September 05. And some bread with a November 05 date on it. And red wine all over the bottom of the crisper. And som funky brownish, greenish liquid in with a gladware of veal. I don't know what that was. I don't want to know what that was.
I keep hoping for chickies at work. It is so baby-time. A couple weeks ago, Fatty was working his harem over pretty frequently, and by god, I want some ducklings running around the place right now! The chickens are more discreet, but I'm sure they've been getting up to no good since the hens are dropping eggs everywhere and just leaving them to rot.
Speaking of rot, I think someone at work is dealing with a bad case of woe. At least once a day I walk by the bathrooms and have to hold my breath. That's such a lovely thing to write about, isn't it?
Labels: Ducks and Chickens, Workin' for a livin'
Saturday, April 01, 2006
I think I missed my calling as an animal behaviorist. Or a farmer. I never get tired of watching the ducks and chickens at work. On Wednesday a little rooster was chasing a black duck around the yard. The duck jumped up on a three-foot high root ball to get away from him. The rooster followed her up, jumped on the duck, stood on her back for a good ten seconds and then got off. I feel like the rooster might be a little sexually confused. The first word that popped into my head when I saw that was "Turducken," which isn't quite right, but you get my drift. There's a lot of duck-sex going on right now and maybe he thought that's the thing to do. Except he forgot he should do it with a chicken.
Work is going pretty well. I'm getting the hang of being completely out of my mind. Also, I like driving around on the golf cart, although I should really start putting my hair up when I do because I end up with a rat's nest on top of my head by the end of the day. A rat's nest coated in dirt. Has it rained anywhere on the east coast lately? Half the dirt on the property is actually floating about three feet above the ground in a fine dust that gets in my eyes and ears and nose and mouth everytime I have to go back to the loading dock to tag something. I can taste it. It crunches between my teeth. But I can't complain about having to be outside all day in this weather. This whole week has been gorgeous. I actually have a tan. It's only on my face, though. And my hands from my knuckles to my fingertips. I'm all white under my Hood ring.
I'm thinking of taking a cue from Amy and double posting here and on myspace. I feel bad that I never use it even though a ton of people I want to keep in touch with are on it. It's just such a different lifestyle over there. Too much committment, if you ask me, but I'll give it a go.
Work is going pretty well. I'm getting the hang of being completely out of my mind. Also, I like driving around on the golf cart, although I should really start putting my hair up when I do because I end up with a rat's nest on top of my head by the end of the day. A rat's nest coated in dirt. Has it rained anywhere on the east coast lately? Half the dirt on the property is actually floating about three feet above the ground in a fine dust that gets in my eyes and ears and nose and mouth everytime I have to go back to the loading dock to tag something. I can taste it. It crunches between my teeth. But I can't complain about having to be outside all day in this weather. This whole week has been gorgeous. I actually have a tan. It's only on my face, though. And my hands from my knuckles to my fingertips. I'm all white under my Hood ring.
I'm thinking of taking a cue from Amy and double posting here and on myspace. I feel bad that I never use it even though a ton of people I want to keep in touch with are on it. It's just such a different lifestyle over there. Too much committment, if you ask me, but I'll give it a go.
Labels: Ducks and Chickens, Workin' for a livin'
