T-2 Weeks

So on Wednesday of this week, Steve (Boss #1) advised me that he'd had the realization that we were "T-2 weeks" and he was getting "nervous."  I wanted to point out that he's known about this for months now and that I was the one who should be nervous, but I restrained myself and nodded soothingly.   A little bit later in the afternoon, he asked me if I knew what the "plan" was for while I was gone.  Now, I wanted to reply that MY plan was to relax on the balcony with my book, my cat, and my phone, but again, I used restraint and told him what I assumed the plan would be, as I had not officially been told the plan, in regard to who would be doing his stuff in my absence.   Steve isn't the only one getting nervous, however considering my previous emotional breakdown about a month ago (which I think was more hormone related than anything), I'm doing very well.  Even with the latest development – a .6 mm nodule was found on the chest x-ray they took during the pre-op testing at St. Vincent's last week.  Now if you Google "nodule chest x-ray," you come up with some pretty scary things, including the Big One.  Of course, I knew immediately that I could eliminate sarcoidosis, because it's never sarcoidosis.  (If you watch House, you'll understand.)  My immediate thought is to freak out, but I said a prayer and I emailed my prayer peeps and since then I've been doing good.  Even my therapist was impressed.   They've done subsequent x-rays and I am scheduled for a CT scan of my right lung for this afternoon.  Unfortunately, it's a Friday, so I have to get through a whole weekend knowing nothing.  Sigh.   But since we are T-2 weeks, I have to start doing things in preparation for the surgery.  First, I have to stop taking my vitamins.  Well, I could probably continue the vitamins and just discontinue the herbal supplements.  But the GNC vitamin pack that I take each day is expensive and I'm not just going to take the vitamins and pitch the rest.  Mental note: go buy some multivitamins.  I'll make them Flintstones chewables, since that's what I'll be taking post-op.  And I have to start practicing my breathing with my "incentive spirometer."  It sounds a lot more fun than it is.  And I'm not that sure that it sounds all that fun.  Hmm..  I'm supposed to be breathing through it 10 times at a time, four times a day.    Then there's the Bucket List.  Have I mentioned this?  When my surgery was originally scheduled, it occurred to me that there were places and things I wanted to eat before my surgery.  Not that I won't be able to eat those things after surgery, eventually, but I won't be able to just sit and eat to my heart's content.  So I made a list and my friends and family have unselfishly agreed to assist me in my endeavors.  We've been to Red Robin.  I was not overly impressed – it was good, but…  When we were up in Indy last weekend, we hit the Cheesecake Factory and it was great!.  Tonight, some friends and I are going to Los Bravos for a nice cheesey dinner with a few margaritas thrown in.  Then Jennifer and I are doing one last afternoon of Yen Ching/spa treatments next week.  The rest of the Bucket List items are things like I want mom's chicken and dumplings one more time, and her chicken and wild rice casserole, and dump cake. Sigh.  Ok, this was stupid, I'm sitting here fasting for my CT scan and writing about food.   Anyway, we are officially 12 days away, assuming the CT scan finds nothing.

Count Down to Surgery

I have returned from another trip to Indy - this time for my pre-surgery testing and nutrition class.  The Lord continues to bless us on this endeavor.  First, He got me in for my psych evaluation the same day that we went up for the informational meeting in February.  Then, when we were able to schedule the surgery, He got us a date only 51 days away, instead of the four months off that we were told to expect.    I have to interject here that I know Dad would have had some interesting things to say about ME having a psych eval… AND the fact that I passed it with flying colors.    Anyway, the trip to Indy.  We had a lovely trip up to Holly's house.  Holly and Duncan weren't there, but Tom and Natalie welcomed us with pizza.  Tom even gave up his and Holly's bed for us, so no one had to sleep on the couch.    I had to be at the hospital on Wednesday at 7:45am, so of course I got there way too early - about 7:20.  Fortunately, it all worked out.  Since I was early, they were able to get me started early and I was able to get out early.  But I get ahead of myself.  First off, they wanted blood, and a lot of it.  Unfortunately for all of us involved, I'm not an easy stick, haven't been for many years.  I get this from Dad… another thing to thank him for!  And right as the nurse was, unsuccessfully, trying for the second time, the hospital chaplain came over the loud speaker and said a prayer blessing us all for the day… which was nice… and then when a second nurse came in to try drain me, the blessing was doing its job and she got all 8 of the vials filled.  I have a lovely goose-egg sized bruise as a souvenir, but still I count it as a success!   Then I got to go do respiratory tests.  I got to breathe into odd machines and receive my first take home gift of the day, an incentive spirometer.  Fun little toy, I get to start breathing into it several times a day to start building up my lungs so as to prevent pneumonia post-op.  Since I am not the best at it and since I do not want no pneumonias, I will practice it religiously.    So then I was off to go have my patient history taken.  I know that Dr. House says that all patients lie.  So I tried to be as honest as I could.  If I lied, they were lies of omission, because I didn't remember ever having an XYZ test before… and hopefully not overly important.    Up until now, all things had been easy breezy and I entertained my escorts and a fun time was had by all.  But then I had to go to radiology.  I knew there were x-rays involved, because I'd been told not to take any of my medicines for the day until after the upper GI.  I did not, however, know what was involved with an upper GI other than there being x-rays taken.   The first part, which was swallowing some crystals and then shooting a shot of water was nauseating, but doable.  The hard part was not burping because I'd been told that if I did, I'd just have to do it again.  So we wanted to avoid that.  Then came the barium.  It was super thick and there was at least ¾'s of a cup of it.  It took a bit of prayer and deep breathing to get enough of it down.  And then she wanted me to take another shot of the crystals because she figured, rightly so, I'm sure, that I'd lost some of my bubbles.  But actually, the second shot of crystals and the water helped get some of that barium taste out of my mouth.  Personally, I think they ought to give you the crystals after the barium.    So she took pity on me and instead of making me stand on the platform and then her moving the platform to a horizontal position, she just made it horizontal and let me lay down.  But then I had to roll over in a circle to make sure my tum was completely coated.  This was not wise on the tech's part because it was all I could do NOT to hurl all that barium (remember, this was all on an empty stomach) all over the machine.   But I survived and got to poop barium for the rest of the day, but you don't want to hear about that so..  The tests were done and it was 10:30.  My next appointment was to see a doctor at 12:30 for a physical and review of test results.  I was nauseous and hungry and I had two hours to kill, but no vehicle to travel in.  My Kindle and I trotted down to the cafeteria, which did not open until 11am and I read until the cafeteria opened.  I got me some chicken tenders, which were nothing to write home about… although one could point out that I'm doing exactly that… and some breaded mushrooms, which were fabulous!!  I haven't had the surgery yet, and I'd had my bloodwork, so I stopped in the gift shop and got some cookies.   I ate and read and felt much better.  I attended my appointment with the doctor and was okayed for surgery – but again, the Lord has made travelling down this road too smooth for me to seriously consider that I wouldn't have been.   Having passed the bloodtests, Mom, Natalie, Tom and I went to the Cheesecake Factory for dinner so I could mark another item off of my Bucket List.  My friend/co-worker Shawna waxes so eloquent about this place every time she comes back from Indy that I knew I wanted to try it just once.  And I was not disappointed.  I discovered, though, that it is not the type of place to go if you want a quick meal, but it was very good.  I had Strawberry Lemonade to drink – yummers!, a dish of bow-tie pasta in a very spicy sauce with chicken for dinner – very good and I'm seriously bummed that I had to leave my doggy box in the Burns' fridge, and then for the piece de resistance, I had the Chocolate Tuxedo Cream Cheesecake!  We all got different cheesecakes and tasted each others.  Frankly, I think Mom's Lemon Raspberry Cheesecake was the best of the four.   When we got home, Natalie and I relaxed in the hot tub and then I went to bed, having gotten up very early that day, not to mention having spent a good portion of it nauseous.   Thursday, Mom and I attended an all day class with first a nutritionist to learn about the vitamins that I'll have to take and the water I'll have to drink and the protein supplements I'll have to get in.  It was very overwhelming and we went to Max & Erma's for Tortilla Soup to recover.  Then we went back for an afternoon with the nurse – who basically read from a power point script.  Sigh..  The monotony was broken up by another nurse who had the surgery 4 years ago and she was funny and answered questions I didn't even know I had and we received a prayer and blessing by the hospital chaplain – I cried, of course.  (Hands up if you're surprised!)   Finally we hit the road for home.  The drive was uneventful and beautiful.  The cats were all pleased to have us return… except for Sophie who is still shunning me.  Sigh..   So it was a successful trip.  I'm glad it is over, because I think there was a wee bit of anxiety that for whatever reason I might not be cleared for surgery.  My bucket listing comes to mind as a possible reason!  So now we have 19 days until surgery.  I have a few items left on my bucket list.  And I have shopping to do… for vitamins, protein shakes, and baby food!  Any of the new parents out there have suggestions as to favorite baby food flavors?

Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam!!

I have recently noticed an increase in the volume of spam I receive since I got my iPhone.  Or it may be that since I check my email on the iphone, I don't check it often online, so when I do check it, the amount of spam has grown exponentially.   Either way, due to the volume, I have been able to notice a growing trend in the spam email I receive.   First, Orchard Bank really wants to give me a credit card.  Probably because they know about the great deals I'm being offered for either a) breast implants, or b) the secret to a larger penis.  Once I "improve" myself with one or both of those options, my social life will boom.  In fact, it's already started.. both eHarmony and Singlesnet are vying for my attention.  According to Singlesnet, there are already people lined up to meet me.  They may only want me for my money, though… and by money, I mean the $1,000 gift cards to Wal-Mart that I keep winning.  I mean… I won three yesterday alone!  Now, if I don't want to risk being taken by a gold-digger, I can hook up with some old classmates instead.  Per Classmates.com, more than a few of my former classmates are very eager to get reacquainted with me.  I suppose I could invite them over for dinner.  I have several coupons for free LARGE pizzas.  Meanwhile, if the Wal-Mart gift card gravy train runs dry, there are Internet Jobs out there paying $600 a day!!!  Once I get one of those jobs, I'll have a use for that FREE DELL LAPTOP or the FREE IPAD that I got for giving my opinion about whether I prefer COKE OR PEPSI!!  Well, reading all of this UPPERCASE !!!-filled emails is giving me a headache, so I probably ought to head up to Canada for CHEEP DRUGS!! and maybe take a nap.

The Scarlet Letter - TP

Exciting times continue to happen at the firm.  You will recall that not only did we have a mad woman roaming around using the ladies room but NOT replacing empty TP rolls, but we had also had our very existence threatened by the purchasing of wood chip grade TP to begin with.  Our buns wept tears of angst.   So the weekend that I was up in Indy for my doctor's appointment (more on that in another blog), I'm roaming around JoAnn's Superstore with my niece Natalie because she's going to sew me a stuffed Simon's Cat, but needed the appropriate accoutrement when I get a text from Shawn at the office advising that I'm missing all the excitement because we ran out of TP and John (the maintenance guy) went and bought CHARMIN!!  I texted her back and asked her to save me a couple of sheets!  It was very exciting times.   So last week, upon my return, I discovered that there was still Charmin in the stalls.  It was a very cushy week.  In fact, after learning that the wood chips had been restocked, I suggested that someone sneak into the men's room and switch out any remaining Charmin for wood chips, so that we, the ladies with the delicate tooshies, might hoard the remainder.  I don't know if anyone took my suggestion, but I do know that mid-week the supply of Charmin in the ladies room tripled!   By Friday of last week, things had gotten to critical mass.  Shawn posted instruction sheets (see the picture) on how to change the roll in each stall.  I think she really thought that would solve the problem.  However, later in the afternoon, I was in my favorite stall, and someone entered the other stall.  I looked at the person's shoes, in case it was someone I wanted to chat with.  I did not recognize the shoes, so I remained quiet.  Now, this was after 4:30 on a Friday, and I was hoping to nap my way through to 5:00 pm, but I think everyone was on the same schedule as I was, because all of a sudden we have Grand Central Station in there.  Shoes leaves before I see who she was and someone else goes into that stall.  I exit and take my time washing my hands because, again, I don't want to go back to work.   As I'm standing there looking at the picture in the bathroom, contemplating a career as an artist, Shawn exits the "other" stall with an empty roll of TP in her hands and a look of such forlorn sadness on her face that I truly felt sorry for her.  She says that she honestly thought the drawing she hung in the stalls would solve the problem.  I told her I was sorry.  She said she just wanted to know WHO it was.. then the light bulb goes on in Rose's head and I said, "I know who it was! … or, at least I know what shoes she is wearing!"    So the game was afoot!  Literally, since there were shoes involved.  I started roaming around the 2nd floor, figuring it was safe to assume that since it was the 2nd floor ladies room, that the culprit was a 2nd floorer.  I looked and was able to eliminate everyone on the 2nd floor, including the female attorneys, and they all wanted to know why I was checking out their footwear.  Since I'd proven their innocence, I was able explain.  Then, I headed upstairs to the 3rd floor.  As I passed the reception desk, Toone caught me and, after checking out her shoes, I stood there chatting when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the SHOES!!  Now, as this blog is read by people all over the world… or at least the continent (hi, Heather!),… and none of you know this person anyway, the name will be changed to protect the lazy.... She will forever be known in this blog as "Shoes."  (Not to be confused with "Stripper Shoes", but that's another story.)   Anyway, it was all I could do NOT to skip down the main stairway to Shawn's office to tell her the results of my investigation.  On my way back to my desk, everyone asked if my investigation was successful, and I HAD to share with them.  It has been suggested that we might want to sew up a scarlet TP a la Hester Prynne and leave it on Shoes's desk.  I'm thinking that in addition to being lazy, Shoes is also not well-endowed in the mental arena, so it would go right over her head.  Much like at the last support staff meeting when Shawna brought up the topic for the 2nd time, Shoes was sitting right beside me and Shawna's angst went right over her head that time too.

Super Bowl Sunday

Ok, we started the afternoon out by having lunch at Olive Garden with Alma Shufflebarger - a distant relative of Dad's. It was very enjoyable and before we knew it, we'd been there two and half hours! I wasn't sure going into the lunch because 1) I had a headache that had not even been dented by the two Exedrin I took before church (although I was able to stay awake for the sermon, which was not a blessing considering the aforementioned headache... I think a nap might have helped); B) I didn't even know this woman (but my meds have made it a lot easier to talk to strangers, so that wasn't a major concern); and lastly, because going to Olive Garden makes the odds of having nachos and other occasion-related munchies minimal.


Mom and I got home about 3pm. In time to spend a lovely winter afternoon snuggled up on the couch with my boy, reading the Sunday ads and doing the crossword puzzle, and watching the end of the Terminator. Terminator 2 came on about 4:30. I mention this only because shortly after 5, I left the living room to go to my room to watch the game and I assumed Mom would change the channel, but as of an hour later when I went in to heat up the leftover breadsticks, she was still watching it.


I am SO not a sports person. But believe it or not, I do enjoy watching the Super Bowl. In college (1988, I think), I even hosted a Super Bowl party in my dorm room. I believe the Redskins were playing someone.


I've even actually attended several football games in my life. First, in the 8th (?) grade, the band teacher forced us to attend a football game and play for the first half. I recall nothing of that game. Then in college, while at DePauw, there was nothing much to do in Greencastle on a Saturday afternoon, so my friends and I went to the games. After having the rules explained to me, I enjoyed them.


So that is it, really, post-DePauw, I've hidden my enjoyment of football and limited that to the annual watching of the Super Bowl. There's much I don't understand and frankly, just don't care about, such as which teams are playing, but I do enjoy a good game.


Of course, part of my enjoyment is the commercials. I like to have seen the commercials so I know what they're talking about tomorrow on the radio and internet.


So far my favorite commercial is the Doritos commercial with the guy apartment sitting for his friend and he lets the fish and the plant die, but brings them back to life with Doritos, then brings grandpa back to life by (I suppose) adding Doritos to his ashes! Very cute.


Either someone just used the litter box or... actually I think it was our little natural gas producer, Cleo. She just wandered in, let fly with a noxious effluvium, and then wandered out. Humpf. We don't call her Cleo Putin for nothing.


Another adorable one is for some Volkswagon car with the kid dressed up like Darth Vader, trying to use his "powers" to do a variety of things around the house.. not sure what he was trying to get the dog to do... and then the father using his keyless starter to remotely start the car and make the kid think he'd succeeded. I saw that one yesterday on the Saturday Morning show, but it was just as cute this time.


Is there another Transformers moving coming out this summer? What up with the Transformer on the screen everytime we come back from commercial?


Does anyone know if Keebler still makes those round cookies with the fudge stripes on them? I wonder if I could convince Mom to go make a cookie run...


Half time - what are the odds that Gerard Butler'll be on there and he'll have a wardrobe malfunction?


So obviously my Words With Friends playmates are not watching the game. :) What the heck is 'foveate'??


Ok, not impressed so far by the half time show... and I even like the Black-Eyed Peas. Bring back Joe and Troy. Ooh, Usher... :) Yikes, Fergie, you're flat, babes.


Ok, get the game back on so I can get up and er.. use the litter box.


Fumble!!


Ok, I have no idea what I just ate. It was in the cat candy jar... thought it was a Reese's peanut butter cup... it wasn't.


Ozzy and Bieber ... "what's a 'bieber'?" too funny!

Ok, in the first commercial we had with Eminem in it, he said that he doesn't do commercials.. Now we just saw his SECOND commercial of the evening. The world is going higgledy-piggledy!

I'm getting bored with this game and this blog. I just want Glee to come on. Me and my phone, and the boy, are going to crawl in bed and play mahjong until the game is over. Thanks for spending this Super Bowl Sunday with me.

This Entry Has No Title

I have an appointment for next week to go to Carmel, Indiana to meet with a doctor to discuss gastric bypass or lap band surgery.  It's something that I've thought about for years, but frankly, never seriously considered because I don't have the money for it and my insurance doesn't cover it.  But Mom and I talked about it and she said that she felt that she'd rather give me some of my inheritance now and have me use it for something that would allow me to enjoy life and be healthy, (and be around to help her in her dotage, I'm sure), than to hoard it until she dies and I'm too old to do anything about it.  Plus this way, she'll be around to help me recupe...   After many tears and talking to a family friend who had successful surgery about two years ago, I called this doctor and got an appointment set up.  There are a lot of questions.  I know there are three different types of surgery and I'm sure there are pluses and minuses to each, not the least of which is cost.  I don't know what type of recuperation periods we're talking, or even what I'll be able to eat for the rest of my life.  Since there's no insurance requiring six months of thinking about it first, I don't even know … I mean, I might even get scheduled for in a month or so.  I've spoken with Shawn, our HR peep at work about it.  Her daughter had it several years ago, and Shawn is very supportive and happy for me.  We've talked about short-term disability and all sorts of official things.  I've told Carrie and warned her that I'll be out for probably at least two weeks, maybe longer.  I have not told Steve.   Steve is a man.  And he's going to have questions.  Questions I don't yet have answers to.  So I figure he can wait until after my appointment next week to find out the good news.  Hopefully we'll know a time schedule by then.   But I'm thinking Steve is getting suspicious… I reminded him yesterday afternoon that I would be off next Thursday and Friday.  Frankly, I think I could tell him at 9am that I'm leaving at 10am to go have my head chopped off, and he'd still be surprised when I got up to leave an hour later!  Anyway, he asked "Are you having your surgery?"  Of course he meant my carpal tunnel surgery which I have told him about but which, at this time, has not yet been scheduled because that doctor wants to see what I find out in Carmel first.  But me, full of guilt for not telling Steve yet, I just stood there looking like a deer in headlights… duh…  (I know, I should be impressed that he remembers that I'm having carpal tunnel surgery!)   Then, today he came back from lunch and he asked what I was working on (not in a checking up on me kind of way, but more like I looked very engrossed in it) and I replied that I was updating my instructions for how to run his MOnday morning reports … because I agreed not to take another Monday off until I got them updated, because there was a Monday earlier this month that I took off because I was a craven coward and there was a wee bit of ice on the roads and someone else ran his reports using 5 year old instructions and his reports were ruined, it spoiled his whole week.  Anyway, back to today, he jokingly said, "Are you planning on taking Monday off?"  And I'm like, "well, you know I'm going to be off for a couple of weeks for… uh….. uhm… (more deer in headlights)…uh,  the trip to London, yeah, in June."  Like it's that urgent that I update these instructions for a trip that's 5 months away.    My only consolation is that he's a man, and therefore not that observant to the subtleties in the actions/responses of the women in his life.  I'm pretty sure his wife would agree.

Can You Spare a Square?

It never ceases to amaze me, or maybe it's Murphy's Law (and if I ever met that SOB!...), that if the copier/printer is going to run out of paper/toner, it's going to do it while I need to print/copy something. Likewise, it always seems that if the roll of TP in the ladies room is going to run out, it's going to happen to me. I realize that there are too many people using the ladies room too many times each day for them to only run out on my watch, so to speak, but that was the way it always seemed. Until of late....

My friend Shawna... she's a keeper, so she doesn't get an alias... In the past, oh, 6-9 months, I have come to notice that she has taken over my role as the person for whom the toilet paper runs out. Or more to the point, she is the person who enters the stall AFTER the person for whom the TP ran out. And THAT PERSON ALWAYS leaves the roll empty. I don't know if it's the drugs, the maturity that comes with age, or what, but I'm happy to say that this doesn't bother me any more. Shawna, Lord love her, though, is downright militant about it!

Another friend, and our HR person, Shawn ... is there something to that name?? .... also seems to be on a schedule following THAT PERSON. So of late, the two of them have been conspiring to do vile and evil things to THAT PERSON. Shawna has brought up the sad state of TP etiquette in our monthly support staff meetings twice now... it would appear that THAT PERSON either has missed these two particular meetings or isn't someone who generally attends them. Otherwise, THAT PERSON would know that her days are numbered.

A couple of weeks ago, I was reading an email... I get a daily email from this mystery book thing where they email you a chapter of a book a day for a week with the thought that by then you'll know if you're interested in getting the book either through your library or whatever. Each day's offering is introduced by the "editor" and she generally rambles on about whatever is going on in her life... like anyone cares.. wait a minute... hmmm... anyway, back to that morning's email. I generally skip the ramblings of this editor... hmm... ramblings... hmmm.. but I read them that morning. I have reprinted the germane portion here:

Dear Reader,

I had an epiphany in the bathroom the other day and it reminded me of an email I received from a book club reader years ago. I'd written a column about finding my purpose in life, and the reader wrote to share how one of her life's frustrations, had also become one of her callings in life. Every time she used a bathroom she faced an empty toilet paper roll, so she'd have to change it, and it drove her crazy. "How could people be so rude? Use the last few squares and then not replace the roll?"

Even when this woman was on vacation, touring a castle in Europe, and she had to use the bathroom--even there--she faced an empty toilet paper roll. But the TP gods shined down upon her that day and opened her eyes to the fact that everyone has assignments in this life, tasks they are expected to do to make the world run smoother, and one of her assignments was to change the toilet paper roll. She joyfully accepted her assignment that day, and now whenever she faces an empty TP roll, she cheerfully changes it. "Though I do wish folks wouldn't hide the extra rolls," she said, "sometimes I have to do a lot of digging through bathroom cupboards and vanities to find the toilet paper."

Changing the toilet paper roll--someone's calling in life? Not too glamorous you might say, but aren't you happy that when you need it, someone's made sure it's there?

The TP gods were busy again the other day handing out assignments and I was on the receiving end. When Consuelo, the woman who cleans my house, cleans the bathroom, one of the special things she does is leave behind a fancy V-fold on the end of the toilet paper roll. Strange as it may sound, it makes me feel kind of special when I see the fancy fold waiting for me--like I'm queen for a day. So the other day after Consuelo left, when I looked over at the TP roll, I decided that from now on whenever I leave a necessary room, one of my "callings" is to leave a fancy fold behind. Kind of like paying for the car behind me at the tollbooth, the next person will undoubtedly smile and feel like queen or king for a day, too.

So anyway, I forwarded this email to Shawn and Shawna and both found it quite entertaining. Of late, it is not an unusual occurence to go into a stall in the ladies room and find the TP folded into a V-fold. Sometimes I even do it myself.

Shawna has a plan, though and this past week, after a particularly frustrating day, she shared her evil plot with me. She said that the next time she goes in and finds an empty roll, she's going to make off with all of the rolls of TP, so whoever THAT PERSON is will know how it feels. This of course reminded me of that Seinfeld episode where Elaine was in a ladies room somewhere and didn't notice that the stall was without TP until too late. And she asked the person in the next stall if they could "spare a square" and that person said no...which, of course, made the rest of that particular episode of the "show about nothing" all about "who can't spare a square!?"

I'm was very concerned about Shawna's evil plot, but in light of the news that Shawn gave me after work the other night, now not so much. Shawn let me in on the fact that the landlord is making the cleaning lady purchase a "cheaper" grade of TP. Now Shawn and I were both amazed that there IS, in fact, a cheaper grade of TP, but that fact aside, since it would appear that the stalls will now be stocked with wood chips, I'm thinking about just making it my policy to keep my own stash. I can see it now, me walking to the other side of the building, (because of course the ladies room is on the directly opposite side of the building from my desk - going to the restroom is the only exercise I get most days) carrying my roll of TP with me and passing one of the managing partners... you name it, I can't imagine any of them making the situation less embarassing than another... on the way.

Oh, I know! Maybe I'll just start stuffing my bra each morning with TP . By the end of the day I'd be back to normal size. That would actually be interesting to do, just to see if anyone notices and/or comments.