tobermory's Diaryland Diary


Mom's Day trepidation

It is absolutely freezing here in Chicagoland. In fact, we may reach a new low temperature record for this date in May. I think we just have to go down to 43 deg. and weíre all set to be the new recordholders. Iím feeling like a bit of a smartypants for not planting my tomatoes because surely if I had theyíd be shriveled up little sticks by now. I believe Iíve heard that you have to wait until after Motherís Day to plant tomatoes; it may be an old wiveís tale but Iíve been following it for years and never gotten burned (or frozen as the case may be).

Thereís an off-site board meeting today so all the Ďwigs are away from the building (donít ask why Iím not at the board meeting for my familyís business Ė itís a long and complicated story), so I took the opportunity to wear forbidden jeans to work. Itís kind of retarded that I canít wear jeans to work anyway seeing as I have come into contact with a customer only once in the 4 or so years that Iíve been in my current position and if memory serves me, the customer was wearing jeans. Iíd never wear ratty jeans anyway Ė only nice dark jeans like the fantastic Target/Mossimo Ďskinnyí jeans Iím wearing right now. But, I suppose itís the thin edge of the wedge theory Ė if they let us wear jeans before you know it weíll be walking around in Old Navy pajama bottoms and flip flops. Thatís a dress code I could totally get behind Ė thereís plenty of blustery Sundays where I stay in my Ďjammies bottoms all day and just toss on a comfy sweater (not if I have to leave the house of course Ė I donít need the neighbors thinking Iím a crazy-lady but I think Iíve already shot that right in the foot because I think all the neighbors have seen me in my Ďjammies AND my quik-dry hair turban when Iím letting the dog out Ė so sexy).

My brother from El Paso is in town for the board meeting which is nice because that means someone is at the house with my dad. He says he sometimes still just expects to see my mom come through the doorway. Sunday Ė Motherís Day is going to be hard. Iím going to Steveís sisterís house for a BBQ, but it will be weird with all the mom-oriented hoopla and no mom of my own. Itís funny Ė in yearís past I never gave any of the media bombing and advertising overload a second-thought but this year every time I hear a cheesy ad about buying some awful piece of jewelry or sending the special momís day bouquet I get kind of sad. In some ways itís starting to make me see the error of my familyís crematory ways Ė if you (as I like to crassly put it) toast Ďem and toss Ďem, thereís no place to go to Ďbeí with your loved one and I think Iíd like to spend some time on Motherís Day near my mom.

Ok, thatís enough. Iím getting weepy and it presents a bad company image if the receptionist is weeping at her desk.

Resolution diary:
Exercise: not yet.
Dinner last night: because my brother is in town I had to go to Ruthís Chris steak house. This may sound like a treat to some, but I just donít like steaks. I always hoope for a decent fish-of-the-day, but last night was halibut which isnít flakey enough for me. So, I had the filet Ė butterflied and medium-well (Iím sure the chef rolls his eyes whenever my order comes in) of which I only ate about 1/3. We had a medley of sides and I had: Ĺ broiled romato, a spoonful of sautťed spinach, three mushrooms, a latge tongful of cottage fries and one onion ring. I had some of Steveís ice cream pie for dessert (Oberweis is better) and I had two glasses of red wine.
Breakfast: sesame bagel w/ cream cheese
Snack: Ĺ cake-style donut
Lunch: PB&J, small bag oí chips, pickle spear.
Reading: Still need to scrounge up a book Ė Iím making an effort to go to bed earlier to shake this awful sinus infection.

3:57 p.m. - 2006-05-12


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