Sundaynight :)

Sunday and the living is easy. I felt so much better when I woke up this morning, that I actually enjoyed going in to the store. It was a relief to be almost able to breathe on my own. I only had to take some Dayquil once today, and no aspirin at all. Good times.

I worked today, and for the first time in as long as I can remember, I spent most of my day in the office. I spent pretty much the whole day catching up on paperwork, and filling out forms and checklists that our DM wants kept up to date on the offhand chance he bothers to ask for them.

I still have crazy quantities of paper that need sorting, but who's got the time for that? I'm busy doing my job most of the time. I don't even have a desk...how is it possible that I've got over 45lbs of paper that I carry back and forth in my backpack? Boggles the mind.

After work I went to the gym with Tracey. She wanted to use the free-weights and the body bar to try some of the stuff her personal trainer had taught her. I hate free-weights. HATE. But the one thing I hate even more? The Body Bar.

I do have to say though...I had a great workout. I forced myself to do crazy lunges and squats, and Trace's PT had encouraged her to use the ball for some weighted chest presses, and they were challenging, and fun. I also balanced out on the ball, while balancing my feet on the half-ball thingy...and then did the chest presses? Holy tough, batman. Fun though.

Tracey told me about a few moves her PT wants her to eventually work up to...so I tried a couple of them. I tried doing squats while balancing on the half-ball-planky-thing, and that was CRAZY tough. Trace also has to do planks while balancing on the half-ball, so I did that too...and added some push-ups for kicks.

I still did my regular abs and cardio, along with some chest-presses on the machine because I didn't really feel that the weight moves we did were very challenging.

Now? I feel used. It's such a good feeling to be muscle-tired. I don't get that in my every-day job, and I really like the feeling of having worked hard. Even if it's pretend work. But that said? I really felt great about the exercise.

I had 2 people ask me today if I was losing weight, which is odd, because I didn't think I was--5 pounds, but that's not a noticeable amount. But things appear to be shifting, and in favourable ways. My uniform pants are fitting differently, which is kind of a nice thing, but also a pain in the butt. The uniforms fit so poorly to begin with, that a droopy ass in my pants isn't exactly something I was aiming for. Oh well, beggars can't be choosers.

I lucked out, because Mark said he'd trade shifts with me on Wednesday and Friday. I offered to work Friday night for him if he'd take my Wednesday night shift. I got scheduled for Wednesday night, which interferes with my Gaelic class. I was afraid I was going to have to skip it, and I was NOT happy about it. Lisa had plans, and c/wouldn't change. I didn't think Mark would either, as it's Valentine's day and I thought his wife would have a fit. But she's apparently working, so he jumped at the chance to get rid of his Friday night. :) I was supposed to be off on Friday, but I'm completely cool with taking an extra shift if it means I don't have to skip Gaelic. Although, I'm still going to try to get out of work tomorrow at 10 am...to make up for it. :)

I made the mistake of giving my MSN address to a new man last week. It was a BIG mistake. Because while he's a lovely man? He's got 2 teenage boys. I'm not interested. I've made that pretty clear, I thought. But he keeps chatting at me. I have nothing to SAY to him. I feel bad about that, but I just don't. I don't care about his kids' hockey game. I don't really care about his military job. I feel bad, because I have judged him based on two things he doesn't see as a detriment. But *I* do, and that should be enough. I don't want to date anyone who's in the military, and I don't want an insta-family.

Can't he just please fuck off now? Maybe I need to be meaner. But it's not HIS fault that I have stupid rules. I just do.

Someone else asked me tonight:

Some Moron says: so Sadie, how come an attractive woman like yourself is single?
Sadie says: because when people ask me questions like that, I cringe.

Perhaps I AM too picky. But I refuse to date morons. And people that ask me socially inappropriate questions. And people with no tact. If you know me well? And we're loaded? You can ask me annoying questions like that. But if you're just some guy? You don't get to ask me crap like that. Because it's a backhanded slam. It's not even a backhanded compliment.

If you want to tell me I'm pretty? Do it. If you want to tell me you think I'm nifty? Go for it. I will accept your compliment with grace. I will politely thank you, and we can move on. If you want to ask me a probative question? One that is intensely personal, and yet manages to insult everyone I've ever dated, or ever chosen not to date? I will Shut You Down.

Smug Marrieds always ask stupid questions like that. Do you think that if I knew the answer I wouldn't do something about it? Simply accusing me of being 'picky'--which is ALWAYS the next sentence to follow up my usual answer of ..."Uhm...I don't know? Lucky, I guess?" ... does NOT make things better.

"You must be too picky." What a statement. Is there such a thing as too picky? If I'm choosing someone with whom to spend the rest of my life, why wouldn't I want to do so with care? Who deserves to have their perfect foil? Who deserves to have someone who 'gets them'? We all do. And we should ALL hold out until we find that one person that we can't imagine NOT having in our lives. That person that makes you feel even MORE yourself than you are when you're on your own. The person that you want to have co-parent your children. We ALL deserve that. So no...I don't think I'm too picky.

I don't want to 'settle'. And I wouldn't want to ever find out that my partner felt that they had 'settled' for me. Because I can't think of anything more heartbreaking than to know that the person you've hitched your wagon to, really wishes your wagon was a Mercedes-Benz and not the Volvo you thought they wanted all along.

I don't know...maybe my expectations are not realistic. But I refuse to let other people decide for me what it is that I get to have or wish for in my life. I get to decide when to change my approach, not somebody else. And I refuse to let people's ignorant, prying questions make me feel uncomfortable. I choose to reply to these questions with a crack, or a joke, or a cold-stoney silence--until such time as they stop asking them. (When exactly *IS* Hell due to freeze over?)

G'night folks :)