Dizzy dancing "Monkey Style"

It was “Dance, Monkey. Dance!” day for Diz. This one had added pressure because I just found out last night that the data we back up increased by 1734.05% in the last 18 months which is a huge impact to the schedule and the future of the equipment and equipment needs. This is the wrong thing to find out when you’re scheduled to dance in front of Management the next morning and report on the status of your $4.5 mil project. I had to put on my good luck necklace, and wear red and high heels, etc. It worked, because they were satisfied with the report that I gave. UGH! I need a stress reliever!

At the same time, we’re trying to plan a get-together for our GA Racer boy, and I have texts and emails flying right and left. Come to find out, it’s all happening at my crib, which means it’ll be a late night tonight (and I didn’t sleep last night due to the update) since he flies out tomorrow. I actually don’t have a problem with it. The house is in decent condition and I can roll. It’s just weird with the ex being part of the same crowd. It’s usually occasions like this where it’s hard for me, although I don’t let on. Because that part of my life is broken. So when people associate me with him, it just reminds me that there is no “happily ever after” for Diz.

The other side of the coin is…how many people can say that they’re still friends with the same party group of their twenties? Wow…it’s really quite amazing that we’ve managed to keep our friendship intact when some of us are scattered to the four winds. That’s where the work comes in. We’re planning a huge reunion this summer (yes, at my crib) and trying to pick a date where everyone can be there is turning out exceedingly difficult. But, it will be so worth it when we’re all together.

Man, we so used to totally tear it up! I was burning a candle at both ends those days. I held down a full time job, partied all night, etc. Sometimes I didn’t get any sleep and only had time to shower, dress and head out to the job. Now, I think about those days and wonder how the hell I did it. I can stay up late these days, but I need recovery time. And a hard night always shows up on my face now. UGH! That’s probably the only thing I don’t like about getting older. I actually like aging. I’m getting better and better with age. I’m in better shape, I’m thinking clearer (usually), I have more of a knowledge base so my decisions are better (shut up peanut gallery!), and I’m no longer obsessed with what the other person is thinking about me. I am what I am, and I can only do me. I am so much more comfortable in my skin, which I think, makes me more attractive….but I’m guessing at that one.

Ah well. I’ll leave you with a pic with my power outfit, but I have to admit…it looks like an all boob pic. God, corporate porn at its lowest form!