Even better than E=MC^2....

I think I've stumbled upon a hypothesis that's so intriguing, it warrants a blog post to see if there's any validity to my theory.  I'm no Einstein, mind you...but this equation might rock your world in an even more tangible way (especially if you're a single lady...)  Are you ready for this?  The equation that will blow your mind??

Sweet tooth = Sweet guy.

Okay, so it's not scientific...but any theory has to start somewhere, right?  As many of you know, I'm lucky enough to have one of the nicest, most thoughtful, and sensitive husbands around.  What you may not know about him, however, is the fact that he would literally trade all solid foods for a lifetime if you let him eat ice cream for the rest of his life instead.  His love of ice cream is so deep, he uses it as a measuring stick for how much he loves or doesn't love things.  For example, he loves me more but our cat, Chai, less.  That's intense.  So how did I connect the dots? 

I'm going to warn you that I'm about to make a lot of generalizations that may offend you, but as George Clooney once said "I stereotype, because it's faster."  Here it goes... 

Women like sweets.  Women are more sensitive than men.  Men tend to like savory more than sweet.  Men are less sensitive than women.  Therefore, men who like sweets are somehow more in touch with their feminine sides than men who do not. 

Okay, so it's a stretch. 

We went to dinner with a couple of friends over the weekend.  It was kind of hilarious because we were ordering dessert (my husband is always stoked about dessert.)  We ordered a giant cookie that was topped with ice cream.  Me, my husband, and my friend Cec all went to dig in.  Her husband said, "Eh, I don't really like sweets."  I gave Cec this look which basically said "Oh...sorry your husband isn't as nice as mine."  She looked confused.  I explained my theory.  At this point, she starts laughing maniacally and her husband basically said "she's laughing because it's true.  I'm definitely not as nice as Sid."  Then he said what I was struggling to find words to say.  He said, "Ya know, you're probably right.  There's probably something to that theory.  I mean, I never once saw a guy eating an ice cream cone or a giant muffin and thought 'hmmm, that guy is a dick.'  Makes sense"

Maybe guys that eat sweets are happier because sweets kick off their endorphins and endorphins make people happy.  I really don't know, but I challenge anyone to tell me about a guy who loves sweets but isn't a super nice guy.

700 calories a DAY?...Won't I pass out or die??!!!

You may or may not be aware of the fact that I have a condition called PCOS.  To make a long story short, my body and hormones are all messed up.  The only way to fix this is to lose weight.  One of the symptoms of PCOS is that it's difficult to lose weight.  Talk about a vicious cycle...

In a prior post, I mentioned that my new doctor is basically awesome.  She specializes in PCOS and referred me to this other guy who specializes in weight loss when there are chemical/hormonal/metabolic factors at play.  I went to my first appointment last night and left feeling terrified and extremely hopeful all at once.  In order to achieve the kind of weight loss necessary, they're going to put me on a...Get this...700 calorie diet.  No, dear readers...not 700 calories a meal...700 calories for the whole day!

To put this into perspective, that's about the amount of calories in 2 plain 3oz. chicken breasts and a few veggies.  Clearly this is not enough to sustain a normal human being.  I almost passed out when I was told this.  I believe my exact words were "700 calories a day?  How do you not die?"  Under normal circumstances, a diet should be no lower than 1200 calories a day without medical supervision. 

That's where the good Doctor comes into the picture.  I have to do extensive lab work once every few weeks to make sure my body is reacting okay.  I also need to have an EKG done every time I lose 10 pounds to make sure my heart is dealing with rapid weight loss sufficiently.  They say if I do what they tell me, I will lose an average of 10 pounds a week.  This seems like a lot and it wasn't until I was told that I burn 1599 calories a day by just existing, that I understood how it was possible.  Literally, I burn almost 1600 calories at rest by breathing in and out.  It doesn't include walking, digesting, eating, chewing, typing, moving, blinking, etc. 

So this is what I have to do:  I won't be able to drink alcohol. (If you ask MG, that's like asking her not to breathe.)  I can only eat the food that they give me.  Basically I'll be consuming 100-150 calories every 2 to 3 hours while I'm awake.  In the mean time, if I find it too difficult to deal with after the first week, they're willing to prescribe me medication that will actually make it so that I have no desire to eat and certainly don't feel hungry. 

When I resigned from my last job, I worked out twice a day pretty much every day for 4 months and was on Weight Watchers and counting everything I ate and I only lost 17 pounds.  They're saying I'll hit that easily in 2 weeks.  That blows my mind.  Clearly this won't be "easy" but it's definitely exciting.  I'm worried about what kind of affect it'll have on my social life.  I mean, my idea of a night out is either going out to eat or going to a movie or going to the bar.  The movie is still doable...but I guess I'll be smuggling in a protein meal replacement shake.  Neat. 

The plan kicks into gear on 4/12/10.  This gives me enough time to get all the lab work done beforehand.  Until then, I'm pretending that I'm a prisoner on death row...headed for the gas chamber.  Every meal is a little like my last meal in some regard.  After the 12th, I'm hoping that the fact that I'm paying for all this out of pocket, coupled with the fact that I'll see results so quickly, will be enough to keep me motivated and on the straight and narrow.

That said, I have awesome friends and family who I know will be there to support me and help me through what I'm sure will be a difficult step in my road to a healthier me.  I wonder if my calorie intake and the number of rage blackouts I have are inversely related. 

Let's hope not!

It's called "Work"... NOT "Super Happy Fun Time"

There are a lot of definitions for work.  Note the negative tone in most of them.  I don't know about you, but I don't think happy thoughts when I hear words like, "Exertion", "Labor", or "Toil"...

I always tell myself that they call it "Work" for a reason.  It's not called "Super Happy Fun Time".  Seems pretty obvious, right?  Maybe not.

Last night, during a monthly dinner with my KC girls, I heard the question or was asked the question "How's work going?" more than once.  I probably heard it about half a dozen times, in fact. The response was one of the following combinations:

• "Eh.  It pays the bills."
• "It's okay.  I probably wouldn't do it if I didn't need the money."
• "Whatever."
• "I hope I get laid off so I can just get unemployment."

It made me sad.  We spend the majority of our waking hours in what's usually a pretty lame work environment.  It's typically filled with bad carpet, 80's works of art, and cubicles as far as the eye can see.  I used to be really passionate about what I did for a living.  I used to feel like I was lucky that I got to do something I like, and felt that I was good at.  So why all of a sudden all the apathy?  I've thought about this a lot, people.  I wish I had something really concrete to share with you.  Some of it is probably that I've become much more crochety in my old age.  Some of it is that the work I'm doing feels like I've taken a huge step backwards.  I couldn't leave you with such a big question to ponder without giving you some of my concrete reasons for hating the whole concept of "Work".

• Vacation Time: The US culture has a whacky concept of what's an acceptable amount of time for vacation.  Come on, people.  Let's face it: when you go on vacation, it's not like the work magically ceases and you come back with a fresh clean slate.  It piles up and waits for you, and most likely causes you to work a great deal, either before or after you go on said vacation.  So really, the company squeezes the same amount of output from you...but feels that it needs to impose its authority over you by limiting your days off to an unreasonable number...like say, 10.
• Unreasonable Authority: I don't like being told what to do. I mean, I really don't like it. Ask my mom...she'll tell you all about it.
• Politics: I especially don't like politics. I can handle any amount and type of work; Crappy work, boring work, busy work, challenging work, inefficient work, even. What I can not handle is politics. People drama literally feels like it's sucking my soul out from my eyeballs. (Read: Not pleasant)
• Alarm Clocks: I don't like waking up early. Who does, really?
• Disrespect:  Like I've said before, I'm fairly confident that I'm really good at my job.  Not only that, but I have more experience and a wider range of experience than your average bear.  That said, there's nothing I can't deal with more than disrespect.  Listen Mr. Socially-Inept Developer Man: Yes, I realize you have either mild Autism or Aspergers, but that does not excuse you treating me as though I'm some incompetent bafoon who just pushes pixels all day and makes things pretty.  Yes, you may have some prowess in coding...and good for you, I won't challenge you in your domain of expertise.  However, you should know that if you try to challenge me in my domain of expertise, you better be prepared to have your arms ripped off and be beaten with them.  Nuff said.

So that's my rant for the day.  Thanks for tuning in...