Atkins? Weight Watchers? Bah! My weight loss plan is infinitely simpler—every few years I have an organ removed. This plan is simple, at least as painless as regimens followed by others, and who needs some of that stuff anyway? I guess I am not the only one who follows this approach. The problem is finding a catchy name that can be used to bombard people with pop ups. Myself, I favor calling it “The Jettison Plan”. Sounds modern, friendly and gets right to the point. Looks like the movement is building already.

I have been asked why I do not update my blog more regularly. The answer is a combination of time and...well, time. I am [still? again?] in a manic/panic phase of work overload which is to say that, in addition to everything else, I am simultaneously having a bad hair stretch of biblical proportions where purple is one of the few colors it is not and might actually be improved if it were. I am amazingly busy. So busy that I have not had time for grocery shopping; a fact that has had several interesting effects. For instance, for some reason, the light bulbs in the kitchen have been burning out, one by one, making it progressively darker like the opposite of those alarm clocks that are lamps that become increasingly bright to gently wake you up. I think my kitchen is trying to gently put me to sleep. Just as well. Not having time for grocery shopping does make menu planning easy. We were waiting in the car last night in the teeming rain to pick up Mona Lisa from soccer practice. In response to her question, I announced to The Sprite that we would be having the dinner of candy. “Can’t we have something green?,” she wailed, clearly forgetting about jelly beans. Silly girl.

When this happens, the first thing that goes is sleep. I just can’t. That doesn’t mean that I am up all night being productive churning out briefs a la undergraduate exam week cramming or baking fresh biscuits for breakfast and hand painting placemats and matching napkins. No, I am merely up and fretting. Fret fret fret fret fret. Then oh, about 4:30 am, I realize “I had better get some sleep or I will be destroyed!” I somehow will myself to sleep. For a few minutes. The alarm goes off at six like a bell signaling the next round and it is the dawn of another day. Needless to say, I am tired. Very, very tired. How tired? Well, in the rush to get lunches made, trash to the curb and everyone out the door, you can imagine where the bag of used cat litter and the other bag with my lunch respectively ended up. Well, I was getting tired of that purse anyway. So tired that Reverend Jim has actually started making sense to me. So tired that when I do have a work-free, fret-free, drive-free nanosecond to update, my mind is simply a blank and as I look at the equally blank computer screen, I could swear that I hear crickets.