Because I haven’t blogged in almost three months.
Because one of my favorite office curmudgeons asked about my blog today.
Because I was on a spectacular roll in November with ‘30 Days of Thankful.’
Because I am a congested mouth-breather no longer.
Because I had a moment today that warrants tapping out a few lines...
Because I have sensitive skin and a weakness for high-end beauty products.
Because I am on the downhill side of my 30’s.
Because the cold dry winter has driven me to a richer, evening facial moisturizer to replenish.
Because I am brand loyal, I bought something from the maker of my day-time moisturizer.
Because both products are from the same maker the packaging is identical.
Because when I wash my face in the evening I do so on auto-pilot.
Because I cannot be bothered to read all the little words to know I am selecting the P.M. product.
Because I am a nerd who knows what poka yoke means and how to error-proof a process.
Because the blue sharpie was in tucked into a note pad on my nightstand.
I colored the end of the tube dark blue—as in nighttime.
Yeah, this is my life and I'm back at the keyboard.
Showing posts with label Organization. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Organization. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Aah the little things
Let me start by disclosing that is has been a particularly difficult couple of days at the old salt mine. Simply brutal.
And in the spirit of disclosure this post only makes sense with the true confession of my "approach" to recycling. I want to recycle and I sort of do but it manifests itself as an unsorted pile of beer/liquor/wine bottles and Progresso soup cans. I have been evil-eyeing the pile in my garage all winter and waiting for the sunny Spring Saturday that I would sort it and dispose of it properly. I had even envisioned a blog entry with a photo of all the booze bottles titled "Dear Mr. Recycling Technician, I am not an alcoholic or party animal."
But driving down my street tonight, today was garbage day, I see that streamlined processes have beat me to it. Awaiting me at the end my driveway was a new addition to my garbage can family... a yellow-lidded recycling dumpster. No more with the sorting. No more with the bagging. Just simplified recycling goodness. If the thing weren't made of plastic I'd swear my carbon footprint just dropped 3o points.
At any rate... that sunshine yellow lid and the promise of a tidier garage was a great pick-me-up at the end of a long day. Now, let me drain another bottle for the bin.
And in the spirit of disclosure this post only makes sense with the true confession of my "approach" to recycling. I want to recycle and I sort of do but it manifests itself as an unsorted pile of beer/liquor/wine bottles and Progresso soup cans. I have been evil-eyeing the pile in my garage all winter and waiting for the sunny Spring Saturday that I would sort it and dispose of it properly. I had even envisioned a blog entry with a photo of all the booze bottles titled "Dear Mr. Recycling Technician, I am not an alcoholic or party animal."
But driving down my street tonight, today was garbage day, I see that streamlined processes have beat me to it. Awaiting me at the end my driveway was a new addition to my garbage can family... a yellow-lidded recycling dumpster. No more with the sorting. No more with the bagging. Just simplified recycling goodness. If the thing weren't made of plastic I'd swear my carbon footprint just dropped 3o points.
At any rate... that sunshine yellow lid and the promise of a tidier garage was a great pick-me-up at the end of a long day. Now, let me drain another bottle for the bin.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Holiday Dining Shame
The drive home was bad tonight. Not as bad as my friend Anti-Kristin had it but bad nonetheless. While I kept the road rage in check what spiralled out of control was my appetite. I got home and needed dinner now.
My cupboards slash fridge are not bare but they don't include enough independent ingredients to pull together a meal: egg noodles and cranberry sauce, cous cous and peanut butter, deli roast beef and yogurt... I think not.
Instead, I ate a dinner of Holiday rarities standing at the kitchen counter:
Thank God for the headcheese, just like in the old country.
My cupboards slash fridge are not bare but they don't include enough independent ingredients to pull together a meal: egg noodles and cranberry sauce, cous cous and peanut butter, deli roast beef and yogurt... I think not.
Instead, I ate a dinner of Holiday rarities standing at the kitchen counter:
- Six pieces of headcheese with Saltines
- Two spritz (one tree, one wreath)
- One cut-out (Santa with red sugar)
- My last Harvest Moon ale
Thank God for the headcheese, just like in the old country.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Shine Your Badge
This is the phrase Sarah, my sister-in-law, uses with me if I am shirking a compliment or behaving overly humble. I had a minor domestic disaster this weekend which upon the after action review I feel compelled to pull out the polish and a soft cloth.
At about 3:00AM Saturday morning I awoke to a noise. Realizing I had fallen asleep watching the news I turned off the TV and snuggled down to resume my regularly scheduled slumber. With the TV quieted I heard from downstairs a very loud and persistent whooshing noise—the whooshing noise that even half asleep I could tell was rushing water.
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter… When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a large pool of water on my living room floor.
Alas, my water softener (circa 1985) had given up the main seal at the top of the tank. I hit the pool of water and began a sprint to the kitchen only then to execute the perfect cartoon fall in the living room. You know the one where your legs somehow slip forward out from underneath you and you hang horizontally in mid-air for a moment before you hit the floor flat on some combination of your back and butt. I pulled myself up, now sopping wet, and quickly (yet carefully) padded into the laundry room behind the kitchen to access the water main. With each crank of the valve the gushing diminished.
The floor was my number one priority… pooling water is the archenemy of laminate wood floor. Thankfully there was a pile of dirty towels in the laundry room. I sopped and wiped and repeated before I positioned a fan to finish the work I couldn’t. I decided that the collateral damage of paint cans and Christmas decorations would be better handled I the light of day. Off to bed—after all it was only 3:45.
At about 3:00AM Saturday morning I awoke to a noise. Realizing I had fallen asleep watching the news I turned off the TV and snuggled down to resume my regularly scheduled slumber. With the TV quieted I heard from downstairs a very loud and persistent whooshing noise—the whooshing noise that even half asleep I could tell was rushing water.
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter… When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a large pool of water on my living room floor.
Alas, my water softener (circa 1985) had given up the main seal at the top of the tank. I hit the pool of water and began a sprint to the kitchen only then to execute the perfect cartoon fall in the living room. You know the one where your legs somehow slip forward out from underneath you and you hang horizontally in mid-air for a moment before you hit the floor flat on some combination of your back and butt. I pulled myself up, now sopping wet, and quickly (yet carefully) padded into the laundry room behind the kitchen to access the water main. With each crank of the valve the gushing diminished.
The floor was my number one priority… pooling water is the archenemy of laminate wood floor. Thankfully there was a pile of dirty towels in the laundry room. I sopped and wiped and repeated before I positioned a fan to finish the work I couldn’t. I decided that the collateral damage of paint cans and Christmas decorations would be better handled I the light of day. Off to bed—after all it was only 3:45.
I spent the better part of Saturday cleaning up the mess and drying things out and during that time I realized how well I had handled this little snafu.
- I did not cry, not once. Not only that but I remained calm.
- I knew where all the shut-offs were and on Saturday when it came time to turn the water to the house back on and by-pass the water softener I knew how to, and had the tools to loosen up frozen valves.
- I have enough savings on hand to buy a new softener without feeling even a pinch.
Yeah, I kinda rock.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Airing my Dirty Laundry… Literally
Today’s outfit was brought to you by the letters D and L as in dirty laundry—or on the DL after this true confession.
Gentle readers I have been over scheduled and over stimulated lately, am exhausted and behind on all things personal. Today, my entire outfit was fished out of the dirty laundry and fluffed in the dryer. Fortunately I don’t have BO and despite my shame I was still lookin' good.
The high point of the day was when my pod-mate at work jokingly and incredulously asked me “Is that what you’re wearing?” to a special recognition lunch with one of our executives. When he reads this he’ll know how truly funny his comment was.
I can feel Clinton, Stacy and Tim Gunn disapproving of me.
Gentle readers I have been over scheduled and over stimulated lately, am exhausted and behind on all things personal. Today, my entire outfit was fished out of the dirty laundry and fluffed in the dryer. Fortunately I don’t have BO and despite my shame I was still lookin' good.
The high point of the day was when my pod-mate at work jokingly and incredulously asked me “Is that what you’re wearing?” to a special recognition lunch with one of our executives. When he reads this he’ll know how truly funny his comment was.
I can feel Clinton, Stacy and Tim Gunn disapproving of me.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Off Pace
No campers, I'm not boycotting salsa; I'm taking a midyear assessment of my blogging performance. It can be summed up in two words: Dead Red.
When I began I had this vision of posting twice a week (no laughing, a girl has to have a vision) and as we are wrapping week 24 tomorrow I should have 48 posts. Alas... I am a sad, sad, 27% of target and hence dead red or in this case dead read. It’s not that this blogging thing is hard per se but it is challenging aligning the topic, the words and the fingers on the key board all at the same time.
Nevertheless… we reassess and recommit and I've got some pearls in the pipeline so set your RSS to stun and comment early and often.
When I began I had this vision of posting twice a week (no laughing, a girl has to have a vision) and as we are wrapping week 24 tomorrow I should have 48 posts. Alas... I am a sad, sad, 27% of target and hence dead red or in this case dead read. It’s not that this blogging thing is hard per se but it is challenging aligning the topic, the words and the fingers on the key board all at the same time.
Nevertheless… we reassess and recommit and I've got some pearls in the pipeline so set your RSS to stun and comment early and often.
Monday, March 3, 2008
Unorganized Bliss
Tonight I am pecking out this entry basking in the blue glow of my new HP laptop. It is a bittersweet post and could have been composed a full 80 minutes sooner. The set up was seamless and truly as simple as the 1-2-3 illustrated inside the box however I had it in my head that I would need to install my Comcast disk onto the PC and I have torn my house apart looking for the CD.
I knew exactly where it was... in theory. I recall sliding it in the the envelop with the drivers for my modem and putting them in the file cabinet. Alas, there is only a modem disk in that envelop. I have torn through the house and have found every other set of drivers but not my trusty Comcast CD.
Through the cursing and rifling I could hear my new PC beckoning me so I came down to see if there was any way to access the Internet at all without the Comcast disk of Wonder and much to my delight here I am! My first action on my new PC was to tell you all the story of how truly disorganized I am at home. No shock to my family.
I still won't rest until I have found that d@mn disk. It's personal now.
I knew exactly where it was... in theory. I recall sliding it in the the envelop with the drivers for my modem and putting them in the file cabinet. Alas, there is only a modem disk in that envelop. I have torn through the house and have found every other set of drivers but not my trusty Comcast CD.
Through the cursing and rifling I could hear my new PC beckoning me so I came down to see if there was any way to access the Internet at all without the Comcast disk of Wonder and much to my delight here I am! My first action on my new PC was to tell you all the story of how truly disorganized I am at home. No shock to my family.
I still won't rest until I have found that d@mn disk. It's personal now.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)