I was just looking at the gym’s blog from a year ago and I think I eased into things, but my first day was a year ago. I’m trying to quantify what’s changed in that time, but I can fairly say that the pants that were getting a little tight are now falling off of me at times. I wonder if that means I should moderate the number of cheeseburgers I eat to make my jeans fit. That would be a bit of an experiment.

Any day that starts with a trip to the dentist is usually not going to be the best. Sure, there’s that period of time where your teeth feel extremely clean, but who can avoid ruining the feeling with a nice piece of chocolate? Or even a nasty piece of chocolate like a mini-Milky Way that you find on a random counter at work? I brush and I floss and I floss and I brush, and they still find something to scrape at with their painful metal hooks.

When I got home, the house was once again full of fumes, and the stained wood looks awful. If you remember, the painters randomly came in and primed all the wood doors and trim that should have been stained. They stripped and sanded the wood, but the process wasn’t uniform and now there’s splotches in the stain. I got madder as I thought about it and figured I had two options:

1. Replace all the trim in the bedroom and hall, and also the three doors with their trim, and start the staining process over. Make the painter pay for this and the labor because it was their fault and they ruined the wood without instructions from anyone else.
2. Live with the awful stain. This would be quicker and we wouldn’t have the house smelling for too much longer. I would also take the effort to badmouth the painter and his stupidity and probably get an account on Angie’s List so I could let everyone know how incompetent he is.

The other option is to paint over the stain, but at this point I don’t trust the guy to paint properly. I figure the stain would bleed through and the clowns would also paint the wrong thing.

Ah well. I was in a bad mood and waited it out long enough that I just feel like going to sleep. Sometimes the nightmares clear and I can have a nice dream about being happy or something before I have to get up and have people tell me I’m stupid.