Donut Fog

Don't tell my bosses, but I just spent the last ninety minutes or so trolling for hair style pictures to take with me next time I go to the salon. Which will need to happen soon, because my hair is about as damaged and brittle as it has ever been, and the only way to save it will be to chop off several inches all over. I found some promising haircut candidates; maybe I'll do a poll when the time comes and let y'all help me decide. But that's later. The point for now is that I only meant to jump on Google to see if there were any good hair style catalogues out there, bookmark them, and come back later, which should have taken me about five minutes. Next thing you know, I've got about a dozen specific hair styles bookmarked and I look up at the clock and see it's almost lunchtime. Sigh.

I blame the sugar. I was a bad, bad girl this morning and, for once, partook of the donuts. I was already indulging in a Pumpkin Spice Latte that Matt bought me on the way to work, and donuts seemed like the perfect companion, not to mention a cheery treat on a cold and dreary morning. It wasn't all caffeine and empty sugar carbs; somebody supplied a little protein in the form of a homemade sausage & egg frittata. Mmm, frittata. But that wasn't enough to keep my brain from falling into a pleasantly numb sugar fog. Really, mindlessly clicking hair pic after hair pic was about all I could do.

Matt bought me coffee because he drove me to work this morning (the first time my husband has driven me to work. Sweet!), which he did because my mom's minivan vomited some kind of pink fluid that she's somehow sure is not transmission fluid all over the garage floor last night, which makes yesterday's discovery that we can afford to buy ourselves a car seem all the more fortuitous. I ran the car thing by Matt before any of the van trouble happened, and he agreed that that's probably a better plan than trying to get his truck up and running. So as soon as we can sell his truck, we'll take the proceeds, along with the money we saved up for truck repairs, and go make a down payment on something reliable and economical. And also hopefully cute, because I'm enough of a girly-girl to care as much about that as anything else. Yay car!

Poor Matt, alas, is going to have four hours to kill between the time his shift ends and the time mine ends, which is exactly the reason we don't normally carpool. But this may change--yesterday my company announced that we all get free memberships to the gym that just opened up down the block, and so do our spouses. So that's one more time-killing option for Matt on days he has to drive me, and better yet, now when the weather's cold I can just go there to run on my lunch hour. Or maybe after work. I've never really been a fan of working out on my lunch hour, what with having to go back to work after getting all sweaty and tiring myself out. But I've also never had access to a full gym with shower facilities, so we'll see. It's good to know I have options--and also absolutely no excuse not to keep running my hiney off during the winter.

Which I am, you know. Running it off. Literally. In just two weeks the shape of my butt has reaped significant benefits. It's making me feel a lot less guilty about how much I sit on it the rest of the time. No more office chair hinder for me!

And now, boys and girls, I'm off to eat something that's healthy and fog-lifting, and then I'm going to get to work. I have to make up for yesterday's lack of writing output, plus I keep hearing the engineers whisper about a big repro job they're saving up for me, so you probably won't get much more than the occasional link out of me for the next couple of days.