Like You Do

Or maybe... try as I might to not, I'm pining. This is asinine. Ridiculous. Absurd. Inane. Silly. Stupid. Lame. Foolish. Laughable. Nonsensical. Ludicrous. Irrational. Daft.

I. Could. Go. On. And. On.

Someone please slap some sense into me, ok? Thanks.

I should get moving on that food blog so I can actually write about something worthwhile.

Teamless

I am officially teamless. I guess you could say I'd be classified as injured reserve, if BERG has such a thing. Rather, on the bios page, I'm listed as a free agent - the only person on that list, by the way, to have actually been placed on a team in the past (two teams, actually).

It kind of sucks. I mean, we do this for fun, right? So great - I've been injured since May. Not getting to skate leaves me feeling pretty left out all of the time. Add to that now being officially teamless, and I have to wonder why I even bother anymore.

I just got home from work. Now granted, work involved lots of beer and printing materials after 6pm. The career side of me feels alive. I worked my ass off tonight, and I'm also drunk - so that works out right.

Other things have left me ... deflated.
Life is full of disappointment. Its always on the horizon. I'll never lose sight that fact again.

Tim Gunn is my Spirit Animal

I wish I had a Tim Gunn to walk in and say in his oh so calm voice, Talk to me. What are you doing? Maybe he could talk to me through the somewhat questionable decisions I have a tendency to gravitate toward. I have a feeling that he is a pretty handy guy to have around - and not just for fashion emergencies. I bet Tim is really handy when it comes to career drama, boy trouble, and even that 4th glass of wine (Is this moment really an appropriate time to get drunk? Talk to me. Tell me what you are thinking.)