Not even a Tuesday.

I realized when I made a super inappropriate joke during a daycare board meeting today, that I need to blog more. My obnoxiousness is creeping out in the wrong places.

Although I still maintain that “Double-Yew Tee Eff” is a totally work-appropriate email response. It’s all spelled out! Who could be offended by that?

Anyway, the problem is I don’t have much to blog about. I know really good writers can blog about nothing and make it worth reading, but let’s be honest here. My blog is the equivalent of sit coms and fart jokes. I need props, you guys.

So, situational updates are my fallback. And here they are.

Work is still going really well. I do have a couple of clients who are demanding and stressing me out, and I’ve just realized now as I type that referring to “demanding clients” makes me sound vaguely like a hooker. In retrospect, I totally understand the weird looks I get from people who don’t really know me when I exclaim, “Oh my god! My client is so needy – calling me at 7am on a weekend!”.

So, to summarize: Work good. Not a hooker.

My child is 4 years old, and I think he’s going to be a lawyer. Let’s not dwell on either of those subjects.

Summary: Child four. Send wine.

The levels of thyroid medication my doctor put me on appear to be doing jack squat. I realize it can take weeks to improve symptoms, but “weeks” to me means “two”, and it’s been two. Maybe two and a few days! Not to be a demanding client, but, IT TOOK YOU 3 YEARS TO DIAGNOSE IT, FIX IT FASTER.

Although I had a cold and now a sinus infection, so that could be skewing the results.

Summary: Still falling apart.

Roller derby is down to one practice a week again for a while. Sob. Pics coming soon, honest.

Summary: Derby fun. Photographers slow.

I popped into the consignment shop today to try on some jeans. (Yes, it’s true, I shop consignment. I’m sorry if you’re a germaphobe and this freaks you out. I also borrow books from the library and stay in hostels. Bathe me in Purell and burn me at the stake.) One pair fit ok, but when I bothered to check the price tag I saw that they were $145. ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY FIVE DOLLARS FOR USED JEANS. Sorry, they weren’t $145 worth of ‘ok’. Is that even legal for consignment shops?

That last one wasn’t so much Status Update as it was True Confession.

Summary: I’m unsanitary. Have no new jeans.

So how quo is your status?