Yeah, so contain your excitment at the fact that this post is not whole months after the last one. I promised stories and I have yet to deliver.
Good news -- our refinance is on for tomorrow despite the fact that I tried to sabotage it. Yeah, I almost didn't get the payoff of the original mortgage in time, despite several people reminding me. That was my only role, too -- get the payoff. Yeah, not so much. Not to worry, the crisis has been averted: I got the payoff faxed here this morning, but not without a bit of panic. Naturally, I didn't have any of the loan information at the office with me, but fortunately, they'll give you that over the phone, if you press the right combination of buttons. That is one of the most byzantine automated phone systems I've ever encountered, that's for sure.
Well, I will update with all of those things I planned on updating at some point. I don't really want this to be a blog, per se -- I really would like to post entries that are more than just "here's what happened today!" Apparently that takes more discipline than I possess. Anyway, speaking of discipline and the lack thereof, I'm being terrifically conventional with my New Years' resolutions this year. They're slightly belated, but in another move of astounding originality, I say: better late than never.
So, I'm trying to lose a few pounds (ideally 10 or 15, as cliched and "ladies who lunch" as that sounds). Not because I feel terribly overweight, but because I just don't feel healthy. I feel jiggly and lumpy. I was telling CJM that in the past few months, I haven't really gained weight so much as I've gained girth -- my carefully accumulated muscle mass has gone AWOL and be replaced by oh-so-sexy flab. The needle of the scale has remained solidly in the same 3 to 5 pound range around which it normally flucuates but there's the matter of the clothing and the general jigglieness. Thusly, I'm cutting back on the alcohol, trying to cut down on the useless carbs (candy, mostly), and getting back to a normal exercise routine.
A few mornings ago, as I was bemoaning (again) the inexplicable decline of my complexion, I realized it wasn't so inexplicable at all. In the past few months, my routine has become shot to hell. I'm eating a literal assload (and thighload and armload) of crap, going for after-work happy hour on a regular basis, I'm not exercising, my sleep schedule can only really tenuously be called a "schedule", I'm off of birth control (for a variety of reasons that have now been resolved).... I need to get back on the pill, start exercising, seriously revise my nutritional intake... So, I'm tired, stressed and flabby -- a wonderful combination. I owe it to myself to get a grip and feel sexy again. (CJM probably wouldn't mind that either.)