I'm glad that after the first trimester was over, oil production slowed so that I was able to go back to washing my hair every other day, though I'm still having to shower most days instead of every other.
I'd rather shower at night, because then my hair has time to almost dry by morning, but Paul hates damp things in the bed. So I shower in the morning instead.
Now I need to write weekly status reports, the real kind that say how much progress I made on each project, with details. The kind that lets people check up on me.
Welcome to my world! Welcome to my world!
::dances::
::realises it doesn't make her feel any better, and in fact, she should be updating the weekly status report instead of cavorting::
::surfs web::
We should get t-shirts.
Will they have little sheep on them?
::looks around at ita's world ::
::notices all the wet naked men ::
:: pulls up a chair ::
You know what is less fun then it could be? Suddenly realizing at work that what you thought was just a bad headache was building into a migraine and thinking that you have just enough time to get home before it gets bad enough that you aren't safe to drive and you are stuck at work, but miscalculating both how much time you have and the amount of traffic there will be, so that you spend the last 15 minutes of the drive chanting, "I will not throw up in my car. I will not throw up in my car."
Did I not make it clear to these people that my college-tested method of goofing off and then doing all the work the night before works just fine?
See, THIS I need on a t-shirt.
All those progress-report-demanding people should back off my Betsy (they should back off ita too, of course, but I trust ita to make her own death threats).
I'm pretty sure that How Often I Wash My Hair qualifies by now for a Buffista conversational topic number. It's right up there with Atkins, just a bit behind Prescriptivism vs. Descriptivism.
Lee, that doesn't deserve to be in the same bookshelf as "fun", far less the same sentence.
Oh, Lee, how miserable! I'm so sorry.