Someone in my department up and decided to drop off the face of the planet, so I've been helping to pick up the slack. His cube and his team are across the building, which means marathon sprints down the halls every time there's a team meeting.
I've lost 3.3 pounds in three days.
Know what else? The missing man has some kind of mold infestation in his cubicle. Whenever I'm forced to sit there, I sneeze. So much so that the dude sitting next to me now holds up a little sign that reads, "Bless you" because he got tired of saying it.
He also sighs before he holds up the sign. Bite me, okay?
I'm sorry I haven't been around much—all the extra work and sprinting mean Mrs. Mullet is an absolute slug by the end of the day. But I'm sure the body, er, man, will turn up any day now.
Oh, and I finally made a decision about the posing nude thing...but eek! It's already 7:52 a.m. and I only have one eye mascara-ed.
About me: I'm 42 and added another gherkin to our pickle party of a family. My husband Chuck, our 9-year-old Junior, our 6-year-old Everett, our toddler and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). When I'm not busy working as a graphic designer, I lie in a ball in the corner.