Stop me if you've heard this...

Well, I did it.
I broke up with my life coach. We were supposed to have this pro-bono relationship for a year. She would allegedly help me sort myself out. I would allegedly learn a lot from this process and be able to gather my own fish in the future. She assigned me books like Taming Your Gremlins and The Power of Now. As it turns out, I'm even more stubborn than I thought. Not only did I not read the books, I went to the store, picked them up and PUT THEM BACK! Take that!
They make this huge distinction: coaching is not counseling. We hold our clients "creative, resourceful, and whole." [Insert my skeptical face]. I knew she wanted to fix me:
"Let's take a look at this life wheel."
"Ok."
"For example, on a scale of 0-10, how do you feel about money?"
"Um...5, I guess."
"Wow. What I'm getting from you is that you're not satisfied with money..."
"Um, I guess not."
"Is there anything else you'd like to say about it? [silence]...Let's move on. Career?"
"Ten."
"Wow. This is a pretty bumpy riding wheel."
"Yeah. [The part where I pour out my soul to this woman who doesn't know me at all and somehow is still trying to fix me. I cannot find my way out of this conversation. When I hang up (because this is all happening via phone) and for days afterward, feel like poo, until I sever ties with said coach and feel like a new woman.]"

To 'Sota, With Love

Scene 1:
A couple on a romantic walk. But it's too cold to breathe, so they each have a hand up to stop the flow of freezing tundra air to their lungs.
They look deeply pained.

Scene 2:
Makeup ritual, omit blush. Permanently ruddy cheeks. Windburn.

Scene 3:
Chestnuts roasting on an open fire. [The neighbors' new dog,] Jack Frost, nipping at your butt.

BUSTED

So I'm listening to really awesomely positive music, which I don't do that often (I HATE WALKING ON SUNSHINE. I HATE IT). Anyway, I'm jamming out. Seriously head bobbing and finger snapping (maybe even singing along) and this kid walks by my office, obviously he heard me from further away and wanted find the origin of the absurdly upbeat noise. Well.
Not to seem awkward at being caught, I yelled a far too enthusiastic "HI!"
I frightened him from across the room.
Why do I leave my door open?!!?!?!!

There's an old saying in Tennessee -- I know it's in Texas, probably in Tennessee -- that says, fool me once -- shame on -- shame on you. You fool me, you can't get fooled again.
-GWB 9/17/02

Yessir,

I love me some space heater

cotton shrinks

I have this problem.
It's a common enough issue, but on a day paired with too-short pants, I reach maximum density. [Seriously, my pants (trousers, if you're reading this abroad) are completely too short. Which, incidentally, wouldn't be a problem if you're talking about (abroad) pants. Get it?]
I sweat. There's no use lying about it. It happens when I'm hot, but more forcefully when I'm cold. I'm currently cold becoming increasingly warm. Conundrum.

It occurs to me

I "overuse" certain pieces of punctuation. Namely, the comma,,,the elipsis, (and the parenthesis). Partially because I don't know any better,,,,,, but partially! because I like them. ....A lot....

That guy

So...yeah. It's my mistake. I leave my door open (literally).
When polite conversation produces the phrase, "How are you?" and YOU, SIR don't know me aside from our regularly awkward exchanges, it's appropriate to say, "Fine, thanks." Even, "I've been a little under the weather" would be perfectly acceptable. Then it is my choice whether to inquire after your ailment or simply let the moment pass with a "that's too bad" or "well, I hope you'll feel better in time for the Holidays."
Mr. Scarfaroundhisneckbecauseit'scoldtohiminthisoverheatedbuilding describes the "crud" in his throat and the fact that the doctor can't do anything about it. And I didn't ask.

Glorious

Oh, snow. Oh, sweet marvelous snow. Oh, magnificatatum nostrum tuam snow.
Oh, Latin. Oh....