smonster, another introvert chiming in, here. When I need to recharge, I don't want ANYONE around, even my bestest best friend. I get really cranky and I don't to be cranky with the people I love. Also, you are not a PITA. You are delightful.
Spike's Bitches 46: Don't I get a cookie?
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
What Ginger said. 'S why some people have a dozen copies of the same outfit, so they never have to decide what to wear. Decision-making is paralyzing. The only way around it for me is insta-decision with no chance for dithering. It's often the wrong decision, but it's decided, and that's the de-paralyzing thing.
Oh, god, yes. Too much decision-making is paralyzing and exhausting. I'm suspecting that part of what I've always called my depression is a tendency to get overwhelmed with decisions, until even the simplest decision is enough to send me crawling into bed to hide.
Ginger, that article was really interesting, especially the part about dieting. It may explain why I've always found diets, paradoxically, easier to stick to and more effective if I have some of the forbidden sugar.
And that's why I stay subscribed to the FlyLady emails, though my eyeballs hurt from the rolling.
You have a stronger stomach than I do. I think her principles are really sound, but I can only take so many LOLs per square inch.
"Purple puddles" is what kills me. But actually, I find Flylady less annoying than the No Excuse Workout dude.
I will check what's up with my flickr account. After a nap. I just talked to my family and it made me tired.
Purple puddles?
smonster the kitteh is soo cute!
Purple puddles sounds like Barney had a little accident. But it is a known thing that my hatred for the flylady overrides my respect for the structure underlying the method.
Flylady autocorrects to goulash, btw.
So I slept through church this morning. And just now I went out and puttered around the yard (new tadpoles in the puddle pond, I think!) And now I have come to the dangerous realization that since I did not go to church, I now have absolutely no reason to put on outside pants today all day. Whoot!
"Purple puddles" plus an excess of god and inherent sexism. I'm not saying I shouldn't be using my own version of the control journal. What we need is a flylady for snarky, cynical sorts.
Ginger is me. I've even thrown around the idea of a fly for godless cynics, which ultimately falls down on the total fail of my checklists and non-bleachiness of my own damn sink.
(including, naturellement, the failure of any "hey, let's start a new service"-type checklist.)