I don't like being corrected.

I knew that when Brit Boy got here and we started getting settled as a couple there were definitely going to be some adjustments in how things functioned around the house. Compromises. Negotiations. When these things are being discussed, it is always important to approach it with care and sensitivity. It's important to be open to new ideas.

Well, Brit Boy stated that he thought it wise for us to reduce our electricity consumption by line-drying our laundry. "You see," he said, "In England, line-drying laundry is very common even though its raining three-fourths of the year. In Texas, with all the heat and sun you get, why don't you line-dry?"

"Ummm... well... uhhhh...." I stammered for a while as I tried to rationalize tumble-drying clothes for the past few decades. Cuz really, I have no excuse. It's a waste of energy to machine dry when we have the sun beating down on us so consistently. But I just like... um... *sigh*

He's totally right. I just hope he doesn't make a habit of this being right thing.

grumble, grumble... groan, grumble...

I'm at the office. It was a beautiful ride into work this morning with the sun rising slowly as I entered downtown. The kettle is on in preparation for my morning tea. I have "Addicted to Base" playing.

Yet, tired does not even begin to describe how I'm feeling this morning. I have to say, this early rising so that I can make it into the office at a decent hour is causing me to go to bed at a respectable time. I mean, I stayed up till 11pm to watch Project Runway (how the HELL did Kenley not go home last night?!?!?!?) and I'm paying the price for it now. Really? 11pm is too late for me?

*le sigh*

I have a decision to make.

I started a new job today. Yes, with less than one year in my last position, I was recruited to another legislative position as the legislative session begins to loom in the not-too-distant future. To answer the question in the back of your mind: Yes, I am that good.

So, as I left my last position, I had to turn in my Crack-berry. It was more challenging than I thought it was going to be. Even today, four days after turning it in, I find myself reaching for it to check my email. However, all may not be lost. I was informed today that if I wanted one, I could get a Crack-berry in my new position.

If I want one.

I feel myself about to cave into temptation. The desire to check for new email messages is strong. The want to play a game of Brickbreaker is overwhelming. The ability to surf the web on the tiny screen of the cute little PDA is so... compelling.

Help me Obi Wan Kenobi... you're my only hope!!

It wasn't my fault!

This morning... I spit on a woman. Well, almost.

I was on my way into the office after a trip to the dentist. I was sitting at a stop light, on my bike, just kinda looking around, poking at my novacaine-numb lip with my tongue. (Hey, y'all know you all do that!!) A woman entered the crosswalk in front of me. I grabbed my water bottle, took a big swig, and attempted to swallow.

Now, it didn't occur to me that I didn't really have full control of my lips as I attempted this tricky maneuver. As a result, I nice fountain of water spewed from my lips, arcing beautifully roughly two feet in front of the woman crossing the street.

She stopped dead in her tracks, whipped her head around to look at me with the nastiest look on her face. I thought she was gonna come over and whoop my ass.

"I dust hab denbil werk," I mutter roughly as I tried to express utmost shock and horror with my eyes and body language. She continued to look at me as if she was gonna pummel me into the ground. Then she just busted up laughing, started shaking her head, and walked on.