Yeah, what the hell�s up with that anyway? you ask. The answer isn�t exactly gripping: there�s not much to tell.

You know the stupid stuff that makes up your days, there�s that, but who really tunes in to read that special brand of crapola?

Oh. Sorry. Okay.

My great plan of 2006 to move my butt and hopefully reduce my squishy belly didn�t get off to the best start. However, now I have all the clothing removed from the elliptical machine in the basement and it�s aimed squarely at the downstairs telly, thus removing most of my lame excuses for not using it. The second thing working in my favour? I landed another contract at the uni. At main campus. About half a mile from where I�m able to park my car for an amount of money that makes me wince. So I wind up trekking that distance at quite a speed since I�m such a dawdler in the mornings. And the bag I carry isn�t light by any means, so it�s like a forced march with a 40-pound pack every morning. The first day I didn�t think I�d make it to the office; they�d just find my body in the courtyard of the library. Students would simply step over me and the snow and ice would perfectly preserve my body until campus police finally got around to dealing with me in spring.

Since then, each day has proven easier than the last and I�m actually proud of that. It should make the elliptical machine seem less daunting, too.

The job is in payables and oh! the fun we have�.no, we really don�t. I�ve never done work like this before and aside from the pay being adequate, I can�t imagine wanting to do it again. Enough said.

One of the good things is I get to listen to Michaela the entire time. Imagine a cubicle farm filled with people who all have white earbuds sticking out of their heads; it�s so quiet you�d never think there were 20 people in the room. (As I was typing this I realized I still have Christmas music on her, although it turns out I�m happy to listen to Feliz Navidad any time!)

It was also pointed out to me while IMing this morning that I might have spring fever. Alternately, I might be going through a sucky-baby phase, wherein I have this desperate need for attention. I need to get involved in something locally: book club, astronomy club, something through the uni, I don�t care, I just need to talk to beings other than the dogs when I�m done work each day. And, you know, if you suddenly feel the burning need to email me you can feel free to do that, too. (You there, I was talking to y-o-u.)

Okay, lunch is ovah. I must away to my clickity-clacking.

Happy Hump Day!

Posted at 1:41 p.m.