...and other random musings.
--Sugar addiction sucks.
My now-deceased dietitian told me it was OK to splurge on something sugar-laden once a week. (Apparently it didn't work for her...!) The trouble is, once I get the taste for it, I have a hard time stopping at once a week. Like, I would give body parts for cookies right now.
Yesterday my splurge was a large-ish cream-filled donut. Once upon a time, not so long ago, after doing the whole sugar detox thing, I was able to take a bite out of a donut and throw the rest away because it was too sweet and didn't taste good to me. But I am heading back down the slippery slope, it seems.
--Why do random people decide A) they know me from somewhere or B) I'm interested in having bizarre conversations with them? Yesterday at the grocery store, some old guy insisted he knew me. And a couple weeks ago, waiting for my therapist, another guy in the waiting room thought I would be a good person to spill all his very personal information to. I tried not to look shocked when he reported to me his dose of Risperdal, which was large enough to kill a horse. It certainly would have put me in a coma for a week or two. 2 mg was all I could ever handle. (BTW, it's used for schizophrenia and bipolar. If you don't know which one I have, you don't need to know.) My therapist was late, natch, proof that ESP doesn't work, because I was sending her mental telepathy to come rescue me.
--It's official: I'm old. I know this because technology has completely passed me by. For the life of me, I could not figure out how to set it up on YouTube so that only people I specified could see the videos I posted. I also have no farkin' idea how to export my address book from Yahoo to Gmail. These are the sorts of things that cause my 20-something nieces and nephews to grumble about "old people" and their stupidity.
Oh well. I can type. I know enough HTML to get by. It's gotta be good for something, right?!
Now playing: The Cure - Just Like Heaven