The following was written on Friday, before Diaryland’s big hemorrhage
An update on the great MA/MFA dilemma: upon further examination, I realized that I am three classes and a final project away from getting my MA. Because my existing credits won’t transfer to these MFA programs, if I went that route I’d be essentially starting over. Then, if I decided to get my PhD, there’s a very good chance that my MFA credit work wouldn’t entirely transfer and I would be setting myself backwards yet again. This is an interesting turn of events, to be certain, but since I still haven’t gotten anything official from the graduate school, only the e-mail from my professor, we shall see how things play out. For the record, Esteban thinks the school is ‘full of fuckwads’, save for one guy who seems to like me, and that Dr. Frank hates me and will torpedo my dissertation.
Whatever happens, it will undoubtedly be interesting.
My fruit detox went swimmingly. I no longer feel that at any moment, I will begin to perspire a light sheen of demiglace. I am slowly ramping back to meats and dairy, but still having a giant fruit breakfast. Last night (St. Patty’s Day) was the old Irish classic of cheese pizza, followed by a bowl of perfectly ripe and sweet melon while flipping casually through a fashion magazine and deciding that the clueless folks at Jane had nothing on my fashionista friends.
I do notice that I can be in complete control of my eating habits until one magic week when I’m all ‘Steak! Protein! Chocolate! Where’s the fucking chocolate!’ After a very satisfying lunch today (saut’ed vegetables and half an order of meatloaf) I came back to work and was in a mood that only a very fresh Reese’s Peanut Butter cup could cure, preferably so fresh that there was still a slick of oil, a shiny halo of goodness identifying it as the very perfect cup of my dreams. It was not to be. I got an old haggard pair of cups, but still, it was tasty just the same. And because I brought a dollar with me to the vending area, I saw some cherry gummy fruit snacks and before I could even deliberate a second purchase, my hand snatched up the fruit snacks and shook them like a lion breaking an antelope’s neck, for they were now mine and I defied anyone to take them from me. So yeah, it’s a little premenstrual goodness. In fact, Esteban mentioned last night that I have been unbelievably irrational right now, and then repeated for effect ‘It’s ‘unbelievable.’ And I could only observe him with an eerie calm, blinking once or twice, and think about how wrong he was, how perfectly rational I am, and where I would plausibly hide the bodies if I ever decided to kill a bunch of people.
You know’ hypothetically.
Also, there were Krispy Kremes present in the office this week. Krispy Kremes. If you remember, back in August, they opened a Krispy Kreme outlet about six blocks away from where I work. And given my propensity to get addicted to things, to make unwise decisions when I’m really hungry, to slack on my good intentions when it comes down to it, I decided to never set foot on the property. I wasn’t outlawing Krispy Kremes persay. I just could not go to that store, not where they have the Hot Now sign glowing like a lighthouse beam breaking through a foggy night. Not when I could ostensibly drive through (excuse me, ‘thru’) every morning on my way to work and consume 200, 400, 8 million calories of warm grease sponge without even batting an eyelash.
And I haven’t. I’ve never visited the place. Not once.
Oh, and the doughnuts in our department were still warm. I felt the box, so I know this. And yet, I was completely stone cold uninterested. Because they are just a fucking doughnut.
If they had been here today, though? Someone would have lost a hand. I’m just saying.
Today, my Annoying Coworker popped up like the maniacal Jack in the Box she is, gleamed at me from the other side of the wall and exclaimed, ‘Guess what!!’ She looked at me with enormous eyes, the kind of eyes you’d make if you got a new job, out of this department, no, out of the company’ wait, out of the COUNTRY. Yeah. Yeah.
She continued to leer at me, waiting for me to respond and match her enthusiasm. Finally, I raised my eyebrows in the universal bitch sign for ‘Yes?’
‘Nils is going to take his lunch at the end of the day!’
‘Uh huh’ I replied, because Nils had mentioned it to me five minutes earlier.
‘Can ya believe it? He NEVER does that!’ She shucked her mouth and then made big eyes at me again. And then spent the next five minutes making astonished excited noises because my GOD, Nils! Leaving an hour early! Chyeah! My gosh, you think you know someone.
You know what I’d like to see? Weetabix calls coworker a dumbass waste of hair. Film at 11.
