November 04, 1999
I've Been Framed
Lisa's playing with web design again. Be very afraid. I think I'm starting to get a handle on how frames work. I spent most of yesterday afternoon playing with them. If you want to see the results, go here. Not all of the links work yet, however. There are still some things I haven't figured out. I may not even go with frames, but I'm having a blast learning how they work.
Beyond that, things have been remarkably quiet for the past couple days. I haven't decided if that's good or bad. It's funny, even though I thought I never really saw Hollingsworth, since he worked midnights, it's completely different living alone. I didn't think there'd be that much of a change, but it really is. Don't get me wrong, it's still a good thing. I have had a few moments of getting especially lonely, but whenever that happens, Max is always around, or some friend on the net, or a friend on the phone. And I'm discovering that I enjoy the quiet.
In fact, James was laughing at me last night about the fact that I've been getting up at 8am when I don't have to be at work until 11. I made the mistake of telling him I was doing housework in the mornings. And I do. But that's not all. I've discovered that I like having that extra time in the morning, just for me. Yeah, sometimes I clean house. But sometimes I read, or sleep a little longer, or just relax. At the risk of sounding like an International Coffees commercial, it's my time. No computer, no tv. Just maybe a radio, the cat, and me. It's a good way to start the day off. It's funny. My mom does the same thing. I guess I'm more like her than I realized. Not that that's a bad thing.
I'll tell you what is a bad thing, though. The fact that my office sounds like a TB ward. And I'm the worst patient. There's nothing else wrong with me, just the cough from hell that comes and goes. I'm half-worried that I've developed asthma in my completely-not-physically-fit state. That's me though. I don't often think about being sick, but when I think I've got something, it's never anything little. Unlike your ordinary hypochrondriac (like, oh, certain co-workers I could name -- or not name), however, I don't run to the doctor at the slightest sneeze. I avoid the doctor. Which means, of course, that when something big really is wrong with me, I'll probably die of it because I never go to the doctor. (Speaking of said co-worker, last week alone she developed a urinary tract infection and TMJ. And we heard all about it when she called various doctors at the top of her lungs.)
And while I'm bitching. Do you have any idea how much it sucks to be old enough to worry about the beginnings of wrinkles, but still young enough to get pimples? I've got a monster on my cheek that's about ready to apply for its own ZIP code. Skin care people love me. I've got moisturizer sitting next to Clearasil in my medicine cabinet.
