these days are they saying you can't have any caffeine, or that you have to limit it?

They say *some* is ok, but try to limit it.

I've done three things. I can go home, right?

Sure!

t Has no authority

Hmm. So, I'm poking through job listings and found one that looks ok enough to send a resume. I know one of my employees' (who doesn't much care for me) husband works for the company, although I don't know in what capacity. I doubt it's in an HR role, but you never know. I don't much want the employee to know I'm looking. Do I send it?

I would, Lilty.

Anyone know what those little doodads are called - the ones that are like a little circle with a slit in them. They hold a piece of paper up so you can type it or see it or whatever by the computer.

Also, I'm this [] close to telling my boss I'm sick and need to go home. I feel like crap. This is crazy.

I think so, Lilty. A job worth applying for is more valuable than the maybeness of the employee finding out you're looking, I'd say.

Eh, on second thought, I couldn't start anything until I got back from Europe now. It's sort of silly to apply for a job and then tell them I can't start until the beginning of August. I'll start the search when I get back.

Nebbermind. Figured it out. It's the Page Up Document Holder: [link] I need one or five.

They say *some* is ok, but try to limit it.

My OB said I could have the equivalent of two cups of coffee a day, and made a point to say, "I said cups, not mugs." I probably limited it to two mugs a day.

When I was pregnant with Ben, they weren't worried about people drinking diet sodas, but when it came to a choice between coffee and Diet Coke (which I'd been drinking since it was introduced to the market, and long before I fell for coffee), it was no contest.

Once I stopped drinking Diet Coke, I found I didn't miss it or any soda, at all. I never really went back to it. Poor Diet Coke. I probably should have sent it a Dear John letter. I imagine it sitting there, thinking:

How did this happen. I thought we had the Real ThingTM or as good as it gets with aspartame. For sixteen years, we were perfectly content to be together. We didn't need anyone or anything else. She wanted me at breakfast. She wanted me at lunch. She wanted me at supper. She was unquenchable. And then BOOM! Gone. No. No. Don't touch my cap. I'm still all shook up. I might explode.

If you feel like crap, you feel like crap.

I can't picture this circular thing, vw. Does it sit on your desk, attach to the monitor? (eta: Oh, those. Okay)

I always liked Tab better than Diet Coke, but I think they've gone and sweetened Tab up. Alas.