I foolishly told Aaron that I get anxious when I walk into my office and the voicemail light on the phone is on. I rarely get voicemail, so when I do it usually means I need to 1) deal with something urgent or 2) do lots and lots of work. I have noticed recently the voicemail light is on every time I return to my office. Would it be self-defeating to file a complaint with my husband's new employer?
Dylan and I have matching mother-daughter hacking post-cold coughs. Also, matching no-more-than-four-consecutive-hours-of-sleep-this-week weeks. I am so freaking tired. I optimistically think each night will be The One only to have my dreams crushed with a whimper.
We have come to a mutual agreement about pureed/baby food. I am tired of pureeing/buying it and Dylan is tired of eating it. She only eats stuff she can feed herself and any attempts to put stuff in her mouth, even stuff she really likes, are met with disdain.
I gave an hour-long public presentation of my dissertation topic this week. Step 675 of 13,000 on the way to the MD/PhD. The committee meeting afterwards was cut short by a fire alarm, so I'm sure that's a sign of good things to come of my project.
Aaron says whether Harry P lives or dies he will live on in our hearts. I don't think he's read any of the books though because anyone with as much teen angst as Harry has had in the past couple is not living on in my heart for any amount of time.
Yesterday was my one year blogiversary. If you've been reading this drivel for one year now, congratulations!
Post title based on Events True to Life.
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