Oh my god, I'm so tired. It's 9 p.m. and I'm about to fall over. I need some sleep, as I have to be in the office at 7 tomorrow morning. Work has been incredibly busy, and this week is going to be hellacious: I must file two front-page stories and another shorter one by Wednesday, and I have tons of reporting and writing to do.
I may also be traveling again soon for work: in a few weeks to Manhattan and at the end of the month to Denver. And I still haven't filed my expense report yet for my California trip a couple of weeks ago ....
Congrats are in order: A friend of mine and her husband (M and M) are moving to Buenos Aires after the presidential elections. They're both journalists. He just got promoted to be the bureau chief of one of the nation's major newspapers, and she's going to freelance until she has a steady gig. Right now, she's the Washington correspondent for a chain of newspapers. Congrats and Bon Chance!
Shrinkage: Even with the copious amounts of food I shovel into my mouth every few hours, I've lost another dress size. That's what happens when you start running like a maniac. I'm now a size 2. Depending on what designer/store I shop at, I shrink even further to a size 0.
But I'm not skin and bones. I also lift weights two to three times a week. I may not look menacing, but I'm no 98-pound weakling, either.
Size 0?!! What a ridiculous number: It seems that designers have re-designed their sizes. What was a size 6 years ago is now a size 4. We've gotten fatter as a nation, but clothing designers have adapted. They aren't stupid; they realize that women don't want to buy clothing in "large" sizes. So they've simply re-labeled them. I mean, I never saw size 0 a decade ago. Back then, it was called size 2.