I’ve had food poisoning for the past two hours. It’s 4:06 am. I’m sitting here and waiting out the rest of it and drinking as much water as I can.
The party on Sunday went great. Nookie’s had set up a fantastic spread of food and I am eternally grateful to Michael (the owner) and Jacob (the chef) for their generosity and talents. We had a ton of food left over – I’d expected about 6 more adults to come.
We did have the first meeting of the families which I think went just fine. My folks are known to be very welcoming and gregarious and I think Ron’s family warmed right up to them. Ron’s siblings came – along with the three extant grandchildren. Ron’s family is as fertile as my mom’s side – thank God neither of us has a womb.
Some of my college buddies made it in as well and even the son of my third-grade teacher who was visiting Chicago and she made him come over and get a signed copy of the book.
The thing with food poisoning – and I’m going to be gross for a second – is the decision to eject or wait it out (ahem). I tried to convince myself to eject but waited it out long enough that I have to wait the whole thing out. I hope I’m being dainty enough conceptually. Even though I know that ejecting feels really good when you’re done and you’ve cleared all that junk out of your system… I weenied out so now I’m paying for it.
I think the rich food of the past several weeks is catching up on me. I’m living right now 12 hours into the future – most of what I do is reactive and not strategic. Like I said before, the book launch exhausted me much more than I would have suspected.
I think I pissed off Ron tonight. He asked me if I was working tomorrow and I snapped at him that of course I was working tomorrow since I haven’t worked a full day in over a week and a half. I sometimes he’d have a hobby or pursuit to do that took up his day when he is off and I’m working. I feel like I have to manuever my day to spend maximum time with him – even though he has consistently told me not to do that I still feel like I need to. He left abruptly (which really pissed me off) and now I’m also thinking the beginnings of the food poisoning might have also made me crabby.
The current dilemma is if Ron is moving to San Diego or not. He and his buddy have wanted to work together forever. His friend lives in San Diego but has worked out of Chicago now for nearly 6 years. So when transfer came up, they both put in to fly out of San Francisco (and live in San Diego where his friend already lives). His buddy put in for LA transfer, too. The trouble is when his friend got the transfer to LA and he got the transfer to San Francisco. So Ron is trying to choose if he’s going move out west or not. The dumbest part of this is the way their company treats them: his friend accepted the transfer to LA and had a whole 5 days before starting to fly out of LA. What kind of company treats their employees like that? Yeek.
I’m not sure if there’s an unspoken need for me to say ‘Of course I’ll move whereever you are!’ or not. I can’t read the situation well enough. To be true, I’d love to move out west. I’m not terribly excited about doing it right this instant and I’m not totally sold on San Diego yet. Plus, all my petroleum panic and housing bubble reading has me skittish about those entrees as well: getting a car and buying a place. So I think Ron’s a bit indecisive right now about the whole thing so that could be a mitigating factor in our mutual prickliness tonight.
All of this coupled with both of our disatisfaction with our physical health which I probably whine about weekly in this blog so I’ll spare you the broken record.
Dammit, I just knocked over my water bottle so now my bed has a wet spot. Yick.
Kitty is vaulting from room to room and jingle-jangles with his collar bell.
I finally stopped breaking things. For a while there I was breaking a glass every other day. That and lightbulbs kept burning out. I’m always sensitive to patterns like that on some cosmic level something is afoot. If our dreams are commentary on our lives in metaphor format then what if we see our waking life as a metaphor what does it say about our dreams?
The stomach gurgles have moved down below so I think I’m past the worst of it.
I got some sort of Trojan worm on this laptop that I’ve been trying to get off the machine for 3 days now. Had to buy Norton Antivirus an it still isn’t working properly. Bloody bugger. Might as well just wipe the whole drive – this install is at least 3 years old – probably lots of junk data all over the place.
Leads on book #2 are fermenting for a bit.
Book #3 is a sparkle in my eye – but I’ve got an interested party.
Heather is researching pH balance and diet and the books she was reading were fascinating. Most of the theory is eliminating all yeast, dairy and most fruits with a focus on complex carbs and lots of vegetables. The regimen sees 25g of protein as the max one should have per day (which if funny compared to the ‘1.5g/# body weight’ you see in fitness magazines – which are sponsored by protein shake companies).
She also has a great raw foods book that talks about preparing bread by dehyrdating it instead of baking it – now that is really cool.
I can hear birds chirping. It’s 4:36am. I wanted to get to the gym this morning but I think my intestinal tract has other plans.
24 has taken a crazy turn with echoes of United 93 – a bold move that I’m sure the writers are relishing – I wonder how cognizant they were that the episodes in question line up right after the release of the United 93 movie.
Oooo. Achy joints now. This stinks. And bile-tinged hiccups. Lovely.
I did have dinner with one of my old co-workers because she was in town to train a client. She’s one of my online lefty-liberal buddies so we had a good time hashing out politics and other juicy topics. We went to Big Bowl – I wonder if that’s where I got sick from. I hope she isn’t ill right now since she has to present tomorrow. Today.