I know I didn’t really make any. But usually in early January I am struck with an incredible urge to do two things- pilates and organize things.
Now. Pilates. I think pilates is kind of a load of crap. Unless you do it for like three hours a day, but let’s face it, unless you’re Megan Fox, you probably don’t have time for that. Really. The girl doesn’t have anything else to do except practice her pout. She certainly doesn’t eat. Meanwhile, I’ve been doing pilates for literally over a year and meh, I’m unimpressed. I don’t think it’s done anything.
Anywho. Pilates. Good for Megan Fox. Not for the rest of us.
Organizing tends to be a little bit more inclusive. I already ripped down the Christmas decorations with glee that would make Scrooge proud. I was foaming at the mouth as soon as the Epiphany came around. I’ve thrown away half-empty bottles of conditioner and moisturizer and probably some things that didn’t belong to me, but whatever, they were in my way and if there’s dust on the tube? Chances are you’re not going to miss it. So. Gone.
This afternoon I worked in my office, which had become quite scary. I haven’t been working down there because it’s break, but I really do need to get restarted on this thesis thing. Also, being the basement, it’s a good twenty degrees warmer than our living room, so it’s quite a lovely place to spend time.
(I’M KIDDING. I’m glad I get to live here
It was a little bit scary. When we put up the evil Christmas decorations, all the normal stuff was shoved down there (because I didn’t want to come up with a better place for it.), and then when the semester ended I just kind of threw my bag down there and ignored the fact that sixteen weeks worth of notes about Jewish Wisconsin strewn across my desk was not going to be helpful in creating a good work environment. Friday was the last straw, when I realized that I needed a place to put all my National History Day paper/posterboard/judging files/whatever, I don’t care, they’re paying me. And no matter how much I loved the class, perhaps my notes on Jewish intermarriage could be put away.
Anyway. There was no point to this story. Except that my office is now clean and shiny and perfectly organized and as soon as I get a new desk calendar I will have to begin searching for another reason to avoid writing about Nostra Aetate.