Day of the Dead

Awesome.

feeding frenzy

So, Boyfriend "Can you put some more bacon on top of my milkshake?" Bill has decided that, given his advanced age, the time has come to more greatly consider the long term effects of diet and exercise.

I am glad of this, as I didn't want to worry about a) Bill burning his tongue while lapping bacon grease out of the pan or b) Bill ruining yet another evening whinging about brain freezes and begging for milkshake runs or c) Bill stealing the fat from my steak off my plate.

But prior to Bill's "oooh, do we have any flax to put on top of my high fiber cereal?" transformation, he was my food id, and I, the superego. Our powers combined created a sensible ego known to share a small (ok, mid-sized) bowl of ice cream while making kissy-face on the couch.

Now, however, I am driven by an insane hunger. I have consumed, on average, 3 servings of Oreos a day for the past few days. I contemplated leaving work to go buy a cupcake, even though I don't actually like cake very much.

I just finished my lady-time, so no, I'm not pregnant but thanks for your concern.

No, I fear that a certain number of calories must be consumed in our apartment, and I am, unfortunately, being forced to pick up Bill's slack. Sigh. Just call me "Jack Sprat's live-in girlfriend."

ohhh, the working world.

I just received this email from a colleague:

"Could you also make each caption seven points instead of eight? You just highlight the caption including the final paragraph mark, then highlight the 8 in the little formatting box and type in a 7, then hit enter."

Thanks for that.