nobody's wetsuit bitch

Okay last Friday’s shit happening was kinda blown out of proportion. It was a big deal but not such a big deal that heads rolled. We found the source of the problem, fixed the problem, and devised a plan to recover the data. That’s what el Presidente wanted to hear. He didn’t even seem overly concerned about it. We all still have a job. But because of it I missed out on my kayak sale. I could be out kayaking this weekend. No kayak.

Yeah I’m a pip-squeak; the hundred pound weakling. I’m somewhere around 5’3” – 5’4”, never weighed more than 120lbs. I was looking at the MEC site for wetsuits. The men’s small is too big for me. I can fit into a youth size 14 or 16. YOUTH. Oh well, at least it’s half the price of the men’s sizes, and it’s not a women’s. Because I had to wear a woman’s wetsuit on the kayak trip. The outfitters didn’t have any men’s wetsuits that fit me so they gave me a women’s. I could have said no and risked freezing my butt in the event of capsize or swallowed my pride and kept my butt warm in the event of capsize. I never did capsize but I did swallow my pride. The women’s wetsuits are, um, anatomically correct, as in there are two sculpted cup-like areas. Gladly I did not fill up those cups. But I did complain that it was tight around the crotch. The others were amused; I was not. Let us not speak of this again.

I so need to go running. It’s been over two weeks since I went running. I’ve been working out but it’s not the same as running. This morning I saw a hot chick running on my 6k route. I so need to go running.

I feel the big blah. Lunch was greasy fish and chips with globs of ketchup and tartar sauce. For some reason my heart was racing. 84 beats per minute I counted. I feel kinda nauseous. The sleepiness is creeping up.

Perfect beautiful people are having a baby shower. Their perfect beautiful friends will all be there with their perfect beautiful gifts and talk about their perfect beautiful homes and cars and careers and all the other crap that makes me want to puke. I need an excuse, a good excuse. But there may be chicks there, single chicks. Never turn down a potential chick situation I always say.