I learn something new

I was all set to write a post about the email a coworker forwarded to me this week. The email contained a link promising new thinking in change management. So I clicked on the link. Some consultant had created a PowerPoint presentation (yeah, that's new) with quotes about leading change from such current thinkers as Linus Pauling (dead 14 years), Peter Drucker (first published 1939 and dead 3 years), and anonymous (around forever).

I have nothing against those guys (great thinkers who I admire) and I like change at work as much as the next person (as my 9 companies in 22 years clearly shows), but enough with the cheesy PowerPoints. Quotes on slides with cute cartoon figures don't drive new thinking on change. Shame on the consultant who created it. (This is where I pause, jealous because the guy is probably raking in the clients and big consulting bucks right now...grrrrrrrrr!)

Anyway, I'm not going to write about that. I'm going to write about how I learned something new about Blogger comments and life.

I was pretty excited because I had a comment on a post this morning and, well, I live for comments (hint). I read the comment. It was from miumiu who politely asked me to post a link to his/her blog. Like that's going to happen without me first seeing it. I checked it out. It was a Japanese site with what looked like knock off purses for sale (the miumiu name sort of tipped me off). I didn't want to leave the comment attached to my post because no one I know who reads this would be all that interested in knock off bags except maybe N who doesn't read Japanese (I don't think).

So I looked all over the editing section of Blogger clicking madly to try to find a delete button. Nothing said "delete comment" in big bold letters so I went to Help. I found out how to moderate comments before they are posted. That didn't help me delete one that already exists. I read the link that gave me the Html coding for editing comments. That really didn't help. I looked around some more in Help and found nothing. I gave up and added my own comment saying, "uh, miumiu, no can do".

Then I spotted the little wastebasket icon next to miumiu's comment. I clicked on it. It deleted the comment. Then I had to delete my response since it no longer made sense. I clicked on the little wastebasket icon next to my comment. Done.

Lesson learned. When you want to get rid of something, look for a wastebasket.

In the News

I find the controversy about former White House press secretary Scott McClellan's book very interesting. None of the backlash I've seen has been about the veracity of what he's said in the book but, rather, if it's appropriate for him to have said it. (Press secretaries apparently have some unwritten priest and the confessional type of code of honor.)

Whether he's in the right or not, it seems to me that he's being a bit disingenuous. He claims he did not see the "lack of candor and honesty" in the president and senior administration officials while he was acting as the spokesperson for the "political propaganda campaign" that led the nation into an "unnecessary war". Come on, how can that be? It's not like Bush critics weren't saying the same thing all along.

Maybe I'm being unfair to him. After all, he's a citizen of the same country where 11% of all eligible voters believe that Barack Obama is a Muslim. This even though just a few short weeks ago you couldn't turn on the news without hearing about the uproar Obama's Christian pastor caused with racist remarks from the pulpit. Instead, people believe chain emails like the one I read which said that since the names Obama and Osama (bin Laden) have many of the same letters, the two men must have the same belief system. Since we live in a county filled with idiots, how can we expect any clearer thinking from Mr. McClellan?

I don't plan to buy Scott McClellan's book, What Happened: Inside the Bush White House and Washington's Culture of Deception. Why contribute to the madness?

Crying Uncle

I give up.

Here's the thing. I gave it a try - over a week without coffee. This afternoon I cracked and drank some.

I drank it because I could not stand one more minute feeling how I felt. My brain has been stuffed with cotton gauze. I'm so tired I could fall asleep standing up. The first couple days weren't bad. I expected to feel awful but it's been over a week and every day was getting worse. I should be feeling way better, darn it.

If there were any positive signs like better sleep I would have hung tough. But no, that wasn't happening. So I give up.

At least for today.

Because, honestly, now that I've had two cups, I'm kind of wishing I had stopped at one. Argh.

What was I thinking?

I thought I was doing ok with the no coffee thing. Boy, was I wrong. It's been one week - enough brain cells survive for me to remember that. The first couple of days weren't horrible . Yesterday was.

I had to leave home because the coffee cravings were getting to me. I went to the mall. Since I don't usually get coffee while I'm there, I figured it would be a safe place to walk around, get some easy exercise as I'm not up to riding, and stay away from the demon coffee. Two purses and five books later, the truth is that it would have been easier (and cheaper) to drink the darn coffee.

One of the purses is a smaller cross body bag which my office pal, N, assures me is in style. (Of course. I am soooooo on trend.)

Last week I couldn't figure out why my arm was going numb. I went to the chiropractor to get an adjustment. I felt better until I slung my bag onto my shoulder. It must have weighed 25 pounds. I tried pulling non-essentials out of the purse. It then weighed 24.5 pounds. I tried the other bags in my closet. They were either too small or big enough that everything fit and I was back to weight lifting with my tender shoulder. I had to buy this new purse, which fits just enough, for my health and well being.

I bought the other one because it was cute..

Besides, as N says, with purses, you never have to worry about size.

Made it

I made it through the first week. It's been a lot of fun and I plan to keep on blogging. I'm really grateful for the support I've gotten from family and friends - knowing I had some readers (thanks, guys!) made the first week a nerve-wracking good time.

I've been on a health kick lately and that's made an impact on my book choices. I've listened to Rethinking Thin which basically said trying to lose large amounts of weight is hopeless but was still surprisingly motivating. It made me decide to join Weight Watchers to see if I could lose a few pounds knowing that I'd have some accountability. (See, I can't do anything without making sure I've got some public humiliation in store if I don't come through.)

I just started listening to In Defense of Food on the drive home tonight. I think I'll like that too because I think it's going to be scathing toward food scientists and food manufacturers.

The best has been Such a Pretty Fat by Jen Lancaster. The book is a laugh riot. Even though it gets serious in a couple places, it was worth the price just for the description of the Weight Watchers meeting Jen attended. It sounded like the Weight Watchers meetings I've attended - sad really. There's the added bonus of reading about her time on the Atkins diet, her visit to the Jenny Craig office with the huge poster of Kirstie Alley whose eyes follow Jen wherever she goes, and her interactions with her personal trainer, Barbie, who looks like, well, a Barbie. I tried to read a couple of times while I was eating. I laughed so hard, I couldn't swallow so I guess it's an effective weight loss tool too.

I've made it a few days without coffee now. If I had a functioning brain cell, I'm sure I could tell you exactly how many days it's been. This morning I thought it was going pretty well. This afternoon I hit the wall. It could have been the conference call on transparency in communicating compensation programs, but I think it was the lack of coffee.

Good thing we brought another javelin

The bad thing about fibromyalgia is that I'm never sure when I'll have a bad day. I have to make a lot of accomodations because a flare-up can hit with no warning. Today was one of those bad days. I didn't have to work - my reduced work schedule is one of my accomodations - but I couldn't do much and riding was out. I was moping around and checking out the internet when I found a story about a photographer who got speared in the leg by a javelin.

Ryan McGeener of Provo Utah's Standard-Examiner was shooting photos at a high school track meet when he wandered into the area where the javelins where landing. Not smart. A javelin hit him in the leg, luckily missing anything vital. The ends were cut off by first aid people at the event and the rest removed at a local hospital. McGeener got thirteen stitches.

I have to tell you, that story cheered me up enormously. I might have fibromyalgia but at least I don't have a javelin in my leg. That's got to hurt.

As much as I admire the photographer for getting photos of his own pierced leg, my favorite part of the story is that the kid who threw the javelin, Anthony Miles, went on to win the event and the state championship. His coach was quoted as saying, "good thing we brought another javelin".

That, my friends, is fortitude in action.

It's late. I'm crabby. And tired.

Today was pretty much crap. Monday and work. Need I say more? Yeah, well, I will anyway.

First, there was the Monday staff meeting. Normally, I don't mind the meeting all that much. I get to pretend that I'm interested in what's going on and watch my co-workers' eyes glaze over when someone (me mostly) makes a comment or asks a question and drags the meeting on for another ten or fifteen minutes. Then there's the manager who can talk for hours and say absolutely nothing. It's fun to listen and try to find a tiny morsel of content in the meandering monologues. But all that changed today. The meeting was moved to 11 am to noon. Argh! They messed with my lunch break!

So, ok. I got over that because after the meeting I went the mall and looked at purses at Macy's.

Our department had planned a dinner to honor one of our group who hit a milestone anniversary with the company. We were to leave at 5:15 and meet at the restaurant. At 3, the boss gave me a project. At 5, I ask, "what's your timeline on this" because I have another two hours of work to finish. "Now", he says, "but I want you to come to the dinner". Right.

I got home after 8. No dinner. I checked my emails. The first one says "Do You Have Any Mental or Brain Problems?"

Nope. Not me.

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Hey - a special shout out to NM and Princess. You guys left me comments. Yippee!

No coffee - day three. Could be why I'm so crabby. And tired.

This is my brain on no coffee

I sat down this morning to write a post. After my computer locked up for the third time while trying to log onto the internet, I stopped swearing at my DSL provider (no, not really - the rat bastards - promising me lightening fast speed - ha!). I told myself I would try one more time and, instead of counting the number of times per minute the activity light flickered on the modem, I would walk away to get some tea.

Two hours later, my brain resurfaced.

I have no idea what I did for those two hours. I only know I didn't drink any coffee.

I'm off to the store now so I can stand by the coffee packages, breathe in the aroma and whimper.

Running Away

I have fantasies about running away - just getting in the car and driving until I find a cool place to stop. In these fantasies, the cool place includes wonderful people, fun work, a great guy (or two), and a hip, cozy place to call home. Oh, and a dog. I read a lot of books with this plot line because it's so darn appealing.

I will never do this for two reasons. I cannot leave my geezer horse, T, behind. Even if I owned a trailer and a vehicle to tow it, pulling the trailer endlessly until finding the cool place would be too big a worry. At 26, T doesn't need the upset. Plus, while running away is strange in a cute, quirky, I'm-finding-my-place kind of way, running away with a horse in a trailer is just plain strange.

The real reason, though, is health insurance. Everyone I know, including me, is totally terrified about life without health insurance. Why are the characters in the books with this story not concerned? You know it's fiction when they lose their jobs or their husbands or whatever and the first words out of their mouths are not "Oh my God! How do I get COBRA?!"

I could live with being the strange woman with the horse in a trailer. I tremble to think about living without health insurance. Monday, I'm back at work. (Hmmm... Could it be a national conspiracy between companies and the government to force people back to their less than inspiring jobs each week? Hmmm....)

For an excellent look at what could be done with health care in the US, see PBS.org for "Sick Around the World" hosted by T.R. Reid (who has been a huge nerd-crush for me long before he did this show).

The books that inspired me today: The Way Life Should Be by Christina Baker Kline and Love & Biology at the Center of the Universe by Jennie Shortridge. Both were were warm, funny and uplifting even if no one freaked out about losing health insurance.

Coffee free status update: pretty much want to kill myself but too tired to do so. (Note: herbal tea, while all very good in its way, is not coffee.)

Coffee Free Me

"Life is short. Stay awake for it." Caribou Coffee
cup

"Stay awake. Stay employed." My favorite coffee mug

"Coffee is the elixir of life." Me

If coffee is key to staying in the game, why am I considering giving it up? According to most of the collective fibromyalgia wisdom, it's evil. Caffeine destroys already fragile sleep cycles which lead to more fatigue and pain.

I've struggled through enough coffee fueled afternoons on the job to know that it's a no win - the more I drink, the more I need to stay awake. My bosses have not generally been the types who allow naps. The walk to the kitchen and the hot brew have often been the only things keeping my head from hitting the desk. When poking my brains out with a pencil is more compelling an option than looking at another spreadsheet, it's the coffee that keeps me sane. And my brains off the floor.

I love coffee in all its forms: the diner coffee that comes in thick ceramic mugs with unlimited refills; the first cup at home on a cold morning that warms my hands and wakes me up; the mocha with whipped cream at the bookstore; and even the tar-like remains in the pot at work at the end of the day. It's all great.

There doesn't seem to be any reason to give it up, does there? Yeah, but here's the thing. The last time I felt really good was after I recovered from a stomach bug that made drinking coffee a not so good thing. It took me a couple of days after I recovered to get back my taste for it. In the meantime, I felt alert and not tired. No really, not tired! It was something of a minor miracle. Then the siren call of the coffee got me and I went back on the stuff. I haven't felt that good since.

I don't know if I can do it. I'm afraid I will turn into a whiny, head-achy, nearly comatose wreck without it but I am going to give it a whirl for two weeks.

I'll post how it goes. If I survive.

In the meantime, have a Caribou turtle mocha for me, OK?

First Post

I'm way behind the times when it comes to cool technology enabled stuff but here I am blogging. I'm later to the game than most everyone but still ... yay! This is progress for me, the Luddite wanna be.

I've been messing around for the past couple of years saying that I'll write and that I'll take care of my health but neither has been happening. When I woke up this morning exhausted again, I thought enough! The fibromyalgia is not going away. If I want to have something to show for this life other than pain and fatigue, I'm going to have to do something about it. Why start with a blog? Honestly? It's a place to start.

The thing about me and fibromyalgia is that as time has gone by my life seems more and more limited. Now it seems like I've got nothing except work and the occasional outing that leaves me pretty much done in. That's no way to live.

I'm starting out here committed to posting every day for a week. I'm going to use this forum to stay accountable to myself for improving my health and getting some writing done. And having more fun.

So there.