But I'm still committed to my diet and exercise routine. Mostly. I seem to be stretching my P90X program out to more like P366. (You know, leap year.)
A shake-up at work is going to make sticking to my routine a challenge. But it's a challenge I gladly accept, since it now looks like I may weather the corporate storm. Like one of those tornados that randomly takes out the houses around you but leaves your house miraculously standing with double the workload and vague promises of future rewards, this tempest has left me confused but relatively unscathed.
|"Figures. My chance to meet Bill Paxton and I look all crazy and fat.|
And I'm probably gonna die."
But I struck up a conversation anyway with my new pseudo-Irish compatriot. We talked about her upcoming cruise vacation and I mentioned how badly I wanted to take a cruise, but lacked vacation time. She asked what I do and a few seconds later she gave me her card. (Well, a cocktail napkin, but I've learned never to judge those either. Besides, the last time someone handed me an embossed business card on St. Patrick's day, he tried to recruit me into some sort of Amway cult.)
Seems my new LesBFF is a CEO, so I'm updating my CV ASAP.
And to think I almost stayed home to total tea and flail spastically to a video of kenpo. Whatever the hell that is.
|Networking, Saint Paddy's style.|