I changed the blog format because the old one was starting to drive me crazy. It was all cluttered, like my brain, and I can only stand that very limited amount of clutter before I start to go obsessive compulsive on everything around me.
Speaking of obsessive compulsive, can anyone else who uses wordpress please tell me where they hid the spell check on this new dashboard? PLEASE? My facade of intelligence is slowly crumbling as everyone learns that I am actually the world’s worst speller…wait, I just found it. Turns out I spelled intelligence wrong. Good thing I fixed that.
Today there was sun. It was glorious. Honestly, I don’t realize how much I miss the sunshine until I see it after a long hiatus…and this has been a long hiatus. Like writer’s strike long. I think it’s making this quarter extra rough on all the poor PAs. Normally at this point their residents would be outside, playing and causing trouble that the PAs couldn’t see and therefore weren’t responsible for, but instead they’re all cooped up together like parents with their 30+ children stuck in the house on a month-long snow day. Today, though, I started to see the light at the end of the dark, wintry tunnel (no pun intended) (well, maybe a little intended), and hopefully that means that everyone’s spirits will start to pick up soon, too.
Yesterday I posted a few pictures of me and my sister in honor of her 25th birthday. I scanned those pictures almost 9 months ago for something unrelated, and going back and looking at them again made me smile. It also made me feel old because I realized my childhood is now “retro”. Of course, looking at pictures from when I started working at SPU four years ago make me feel old, which could be a sign that I am, in all actuality, just getting older.
Anyway, I thought I’d post a few more pictures from my retro childhood, which I realize is narcissistic, but nonetheless entertaining. These are all courtesy of a beautiful scrapbook my sister put together for me for my high school graduation (hence the witty scrapbook stickers on a few of them), and of my parents, who most likely took the pictures. And created me, thus allowing these pictures to be taken. Whatever, I’m getting on with it:
Life was, and continues to be, good.