22 January 2011

It's All About Pennies and Inches

Mood: Tired but accomplished 
On TV: King of the Hill (I tell you what)

It's mid-January, it's freezing (like REALLY freezing) outside and there is absolutely nothing to do except sit inside our tiny cramped apartment and get more annoyed at the fact that it seems to be getting tinier and more cramped by the minute - this is a time honored winter tradition in our household.

So it was probably inevitable that when the hubs asked me what I wanted to do with our Saturday I suggested rearranging and de-cluttering our apartment (in an effort to keep the walls from completely closing in and smashing us in our sleep) - but it was surprising that the hubs not only agreed but jumped up to get started.

We spent hours today - purging our closets - getting rid of old clothes, shoes and generally useless crap that the two of us somehow manage to collect over the course of a year. We added storage and organization solutions to our closets and rearranged things until we'd gained a few inches of storage space in each closet.

A few inches may not sound like much but when you're living in such a small space a few extra inches can make all the difference in the world. It means that things that were tucked in corners can now be properly stored on shelves in the closet - it means that furniture can be shifted ever so slightly, eventually making room for:


Turning the end table and moving a few things into the newly created spaces in our closet gave us room for a tiny desk all for me! I'm so excited to finally be able to move from my previous work space (otherwise known as the corner of the futon) and into a proper (although small) desk area. 

One of the things we moved to make room for my new work area was our jar of change. We hauled the jar to our local supermarket and dumped the contents into the Coinstar machine - watching in awe as our pennies (literally - it was more than 50% pennies) started to add up. At the end of the count we had nearly $22.00 - all from pennies and a few nickels. Who knew that we had $22 dollars just sitting in a jar in the corner? 

So, a few extra inches and I gained my own workspace. A few extra pennies nearly paid for the desk (what can I say - we're all about the craptastic cheapness that is Wal-Mart do it yourself furniture). 

All of this started me thinking about my edits - which are currently so massive that half the time I don't even know where to start. It's a huge job and, no matter how much I do, it doesn't seem like I'm really getting anywhere but really? Isn't it all about the pennies and inches? One word, one sentence at a time and eventually I'll get there. And this time I'll do it at my super cool new desk! 


16 January 2011

New Year's Resolutions?

Mood: Stabby (Cigna insurance and my new Nook have combined forces to drive me to the brink of insanity)
What I'm Listening to: Sounds of Nature on AOL radio (also, the occasional banging and stomping noises from the apartment upstairs)

"We need to move more - get some exercise because we're out.of.shape"

This is what I said to hubs a few weeks ago. He smiled, nodded and agreed in the most noncommittal, vaguest way possible that we should definitely do that.

We I talked about getting a membership at the local Rec Center because they have a walking track, swimming pool and tons of weight/cardio equipment to help us in our quest for fitness. Hubs smiled, nodded and agreed again - until it came time to actually, you know, go and do those things.

See, here's the thing. Hubs and I are basically sedentary people - particularly in the winter. I mean, we'd like to go to the rec center but it's across town and would require us going out into the snowy sub-zero temps of an Illinois winter. This? Is not really in line with our winter hibernation mode.

So, we decided on Plan B.

Meet plan B:

Now, I know, you're thinking "big deal, it's just a video game" but trust me - this is not just any video game. This is a one stop torture device masquerading as a harmless video game. It kicks my butt four times a week using innocent sounding activities and games along with a personal trainer to help guide me.

By "personal trainer" I mean a video game character - kind of like Mario only less friendly and way less princess obsessed - whose job it is to whip my butt into shape. I hate her. Seriously. Loathe. She demands that I move faster, push harder and do things that are physically impossible because I'm not a two dimensional 90 pound video game generated stick insect.

Thankfully this game comes with a heart rate monitor that displays my heart rate right on the screen so I'll know the exact moment that my heart attack - slash- stroke begins. What would be even more helpful? If the device would trigger a call to 911 when I collapse on the floor in a quivering sweaty mass of goo at the end of a workout.