SLIVERS

• You may recall that I’ve got some weight/eating shit that I deal with. Like most everything else, I'm not shy about it. I’ve been through therapy for my issues. I’m in therapy now (for all sorts of stuff). Part of my precious little disorder is that I weigh myself pretty obsessively. I even travel with a scale. (Secksy, right?) I’m good with it. This disorder thing is like my pet. Anyhow, whenever I step on a scale—which is lots—I wince before the digital numbers settle on the bad news. And then, once I see it, I usually say, “Could be, has been, will be—worse.” Uplifting mantra, right? (My shrink wouldn’t be too thrilled with it though. It’s pretty far off from the one she's got me using now: I’m worth loving.)

• Yesterday I ran my dishwasher for the first time in over two weeks. Very few dishes are a superb perk of living alone.

• Jim and I were walking through a parking lot the other day. It was sunny and we were backlit. I don’t remember what he was talking about, but I interrupted and told him we had to pause and admire my shadow. My neck looked stunning.

• I got new earrings. They are posts with a little copper screw head design. Last night I was gathering up stuff in my office, and rather than trek the twenty feet to my bedroom more than once, I employ pockets and my mouth to see just how much I can carry. When I put the new earrings in my mouth they tasted salty. “Huh,” I thought, “does copper always taste salty?” Maybe it does, but I’m pretty sure my copper tasted salty ‘cause I wore the earrings to yoga. Bikram makes me a sweaty little thing.

• Without automatic bill pay I’d be living like a squatter in my own home. No power. No water. Like I’ve said before, lately if it matters, I will forget it. I thoughtlessly archive e-bills. I leave snail mail bills on my desk for a couple months before I open them. My carelessness turns autopay into my hero. I don’t have to remember a damn thing. So what I need now is a way to autopay my tithing. Can I do that? And don’t say I should just pay it at the end of the year. I have exactly no self control. I would put the tithing money in a separate account and then I would enjoy scheming against myself to sneak into the account and justify spending it. And friends, I can justify anything.

• What the eff is clotted cream? It sounds dreadful. 

• Instead of cleaning my fridge I’m going to buy lots of soda to fill it up.

• The Wasband was a terrific laundress. I never did the wash. I don’t mind it now though; my clothes are little and don’t require more than a couple folds. But geez is there a lot! How can this be with just one small human contributing to the hamper? Bikram yoga. With all the shorts, tube tops, and towels I go through in a week, it feels like I’m doing the laundry for a family of five.