I can confirm the dizzy spells, Steph. Also in my experience, losing weight may not improve your BP.

Dang it. The dizzy spells kind of freaked me out, but I assumed they were stress-related. Or...something. (Okay, I kind of stuck my head in the sand about them.)

I've never noticed a real correlation between my weight and BP, but it's one of those parameters that medical professionals love to toss around. (Plus, I'm sure it *is* correlated for some people. Just not me. Or anyone related to my Dad.)

I don't exercise like a fanatic, but I walk the dog or go to the gym 3-5 days a week. I guess I could work out harder, but there's only so much I'm willing to do. Zumba will never happen. I will never be a runner.

Rather than eating a stack of cookies, I'm eating a pile of fresh vegetables. I'm chewing them grumpily.

Bah. Well, I need more veggies, because I need more fiber for my stupid IBS and cranky butt. ("Cranky butt" is not a euphemism in this case. My ass is being a jerk and fiber seems to be the answer.)

Boooooo. I'm already on BP meds; it's been the same low dose for years, and my BP has always been normal on it. Bah. I assume the dose will be increased. Although I know there's a BP med that's supposed to help with social anxiety symptoms; I should probably look that up and see about switching to it, if I need to tinker with my meds anyway.

Burrell, it's okay. Donate away because it's probably too complex make it happen.

Lose weight and your BP goes *down*

Yeah, I am unsure of the causation on that. There's so much anti-fat pseudo science out there I don't even know what's what.

Yeah, I am unsure of the causation on that.

Me, too. But damn if it isn't bandied about like gospel.

Floor holiday party was today. And everyone just got an invite to the Directorate toast right now. I'm pretty sure close to nothing is getting done now. The number and topic of conversations I'm overhearing backs this up. Me, I'm the working grinch.

you're a cutiehead one, saragrinch. your cheeks are made to pinch.

In line at post office, surrounded by adorable toddlers.

tuck one under your arm and just run Consuela.

I'm afraid I'm in my semi-regular, health-inspired "Fine, I'll just die on you, I'll show you, health care industry!" mood at the moment. I am, however, resisting the urge to eat all the mashed potatoes--though there is the occasional helping with lots of butter and garlic, because Christmas, dammit. Fortunately I never had a sweet tooth. Still, I enjoy telling earnest health care advice professionals--not the doctors, the poor recent graduates who are in their first job as evangelists and missionaries to the unhealthy touting the wonders of exercise and good eating and all that stuff we know already, dammit--that "even if you have low blood pressure and all that, you're still going to die." I'm 52, child, you're barely legal to drink. Do not preach at me.

I apparently have to hire someone ASAP, so I got access to the HR system, and man, are there a lot of terrible cover letters out there. There was also a note warning the reader away from a person who applies for every job here and was escorted out of a past job by security.

Also, it is snowing like crazy, but I think not accumulating too much yet? No one is ever getting home tonight.