Still waiting to find time to write a blog post. Believe it or not returning to one’s office after a week away is not the most relaxing thing in the world. Am I right about this, Barb?
Real post later…
And my (brief) update:
I learned a lot last week, but not as much as I hoped. I have a lot of work ahead of me.
The Hunger Game
One thing I realized last week is that I have no self-control when it comes to eating (or alcohol for that matter). Each day I was supplied with three complete meals, each day I ate the entirety of each meal.
My foot, which still hurts, and my abundant laziness led me to not workout at all while I was at Historic Banning Mills, which obviously makes matter worse.
I start a diet today (because I was weak this weekend as well).
Fear Confirmed, Not Conquered
I mentioned last week that I did the “short” zip-line course at Historic Banning Mills. The short course consisted of three zip-lines with some tree-to-tree bridgework in between. Though I was secured 100% of the time with not one but two hooks I was scared shitless. I loved the actual zip-linigs, and hated everything in between.
“It’s Not The Arrow, It’s The Indian”
This was one of my father’s favorite sayings. I guess now I should be saying “It’s not the arrow, it’s the Native American” but I refuse.
The reason I mention this saying is two-fold.
On Saturday I “braved” (Get it? Indian? Braved? Oh, never mind) the shitty weather and headed up to East Atlanta Village for the bike races. While standing there I got envious of the people who were taking photos, so I “ran” back to my car and got my gear. In my time at the races I took over five hundred photos with my Nikon D300 (and three with my iPhone). On Sunday morning I deleted all of the photos I took with my Nikon because they were all shit — not “Paulie’s being overcritical, shit; real shit.”
On Sunday I met up with some coworkers. We have people in from (The) Ukraine and since one of the people on my project is from there too she invited me to go out with them and the rest of our drinking club. We met at a bowling alley (the 300 lanes inside I-285) and I gave the Ukrainians some pointers. I then subsequently proceeded to bowl the worst game I have even bowled since reaching teenager status. I will not use my foot as an excuse (though it did hurt, but was not a factor) as I honestly tell you that I bowled a 67. For the life of me I could not keep the ball from hooking off the lane! I scored my only spare in the tenth frame rolling the ball left handed! When is Cheddarhead again? 😉
When the alley couldn’t produce the pizzas ordered by our lane after over ninety minutes (I shit you not) and our lane malfunctioned during our second game we bagged bowling and headed over for wings and beers at Taco Mac. I told you I had no self-control.