Non-committal

I am currently in bed. Time? 8:02.

(10:02 Kansas time, which I was on just yesterday).

In bed with a Max cat. Reunited. Life is good.

I am too tired to unpack my suitcase, too awake to sleep, and too distracted? to read.

Also I'm sore, because yesterday I helped lift the foosball table at my parents' house (unsuccessfully trying to haul it out the front entry way and into the garage) and I really think I pulled something or almost right-on-the-brink-of-pulling almost-pulled something in my upper back/shoulder area. I mean, yowsa.

So that's not helping with either the unpacking or the poor posture I choose to use when reading in bed. Sure, I could sit up in good posture in bed and read and my shoulders probably wouldn't bother me, but I've never been one to break tradition when it comes to bad posture.

Also the posture I'm using to type this (lying on stomach, arms draped over pillow which is under my chin, thus tugging on the shoulder region) is really not helping things.

I am a champ and clearly a type A goal setter and achiever.

Speaking of, I've already missed the mark on one of my chief resolutions for the year. Goal: eat fast food only once a month. Number of times I've eaten fast food? Twice.

So the question is: wait until March 1st (CAN SHE DO IT) to once again have fast food, honoring at least the 1:1 (2:2 reduced) food per month ratio, or just ignore this mishap and reset the French fry calendar on February 1st? Thoughts? Not that I will necessarily listen to them, but, thoughts?

Remember that time I was lying in bed, not committing to sleep or reading or cleaning or unpacking?

8:10 p.m.

What else can I tell you?

Back to work tomorrow, oh looky there, in just under 12 hours from now.

I have located my work badge, so that's good. Step one: able to clock in. Holla.

I love to dance. Random, but I've been thinking about it lately, and one dance partner in particular I'd like to hit the floors with.

Max is sort of propped against my right calf right now -- with blankets between us -- and that portion of my leg is warm.

I am not digging this Iron & Wine song on my Pandora right now. That's unusual. Too plinky plunky (I stole that phrase from Phoebe Buffay -- points if you can cite the specific reference).

8:14 p.m.

At least I'm using this time to write.

Another resolution: write one (gasp!) book (gasp!) chapter per month. They don't have to be good -- they probably won't be, and they probably won't match up -- but I need to clear a day each month and get to writing.

Maybe I should align them with the fast food days. Salt and fountain soda can keep me company while I rehash old memories on the keyboard.

This line up likely won't happen, as I will more than likely use my fast food days on workdays when I really don't want to go somewhere and get a salad or bring a lunch or go to the grocery store for a low fat microwave meal.

I like Jim Gaffigan's voice (he just came on my Pandora station, hence the seemingly random comment).

I saw my Grams the other day. It was nice to see her. I had her all to myself, and I can't remember the last time that happened. I think it's been years. We had a nice chat.

Hmm. Should I leave you guys now? I'm thinking it might be time. And I realize I owe you an actual essay here soon. I've got some stuff churning around up in that head of mine, I've just been in holiday/travel mode, and you know how hard it is to get a moment where the blender stops spinning in order for the thoughts to settle and the fingers to land on the keyboard and stay there during holiday/travel season.

It's been good churning out some words here, though. Thanks mucho.

Muah. Happy 2015 to you.

8:21 p.m.