Stress, Weight, and Money

In project management, there's this theory known as the triple-constraint. It basically says that scope, budget, and schedule are all related, and you can't change one without affecting the others.

I think stress, weight and money are my personal triple-constraint, and let me just tell you that I have blown all three. Yeah, that's right. I'm a stressed out, overweight woman with a credit card. I've just been stressed to hell recently, and my regular stress management strategies (spending time with friends, walking it off on the treadmill, escaping into a good book) have all been unequal to the task.

First the uncontrolled stress affected my weight. I gained five pounds right before the holidays. I realize that for a lot of people this is no big deal, but I used to be a lot heavier, and it was a good six months of Weight Watchers meetings and obsessive point-counting before I got down to this size. I never, ever want to weigh that much again. I like being able to climb a flight of stairs. I like being able to have a conversation while I walk with someone. So five pounds really scares me, and the worst thing is that I've been trying since January 1 to lose it and my weight is just completely random. Honestly--it's just like high school algebra. No matter how careful I am, I have no idea what's going to happen. Sometimes it's down, and then maddeningly the next day it's up again, even though I have done nothing different. At least it hasn't gone up past the five-pound mark. Hopefully eventually consistent effort will show up on the scale.

Naturally, this has blown my budget. Eating healthy costs a lot more than eating crap. I should probably have been eating healthy anyway, so it's not exactly a bad change. And I think I'm eating out less, so that's okay. But who am I kidding? The stress spending is definitely not confined to Healthy Choice frozen entrees. I've been spending WAY too much money, especially on girly items like sexy boots and (this is a long-standing stress reaction) underwear. Yeah, I know. How much underwear could anyone possibly buy? How could it be a genuine spending problem? Well, lemme tell you, there's a whole industry in this country devoted to making women by far more underwear than they need (or far less, depending on whether you're measuring dollars or acreage). It's a successful industry. And there was a sale.

The Blackberry Bump

I have to say, THREE people e-mailed me today to ask whether I'm ever planning on blogging again. If I'd thought any of you were still looking for a blog entry, I would probably...well, I wouldn't have written anything, but I would have been wracked with guilt over not writing. But thank you for the support--I'll try to do better.

I recently found myself on a plane from Phoenix to Philadelphia, and on the plane I met the last charming CFO in America. No, honestly. He was witty, genuinely interested in people as human beings (I wasn't aware that you could do this as a CFO--I kind of thought they had to remove this functionality to get the CFO program to run), a devoted husband, a proud father, and just an all-around great guy. He reminded me immediately of one of the best bosses I've ever had. I had resumes in my briefcase (bad habit), and I have to tell you, I was hard-pressed not to hand him one. Should you have a hankering to work in real estate in the Philadelphia area, you should work for his company immediately.

This rare character alerted me to a cultural phenomenon that had escaped my notice. His patented name for it is the "Blackberry Bump," and it occurs when two people who are unsuccessfully multitastking on their Blackberries collide. He claimed it was the hot new workplace compensation claim, and you know, he may be onto something. Counting Blackberry Bumps is now my favorite airport pastime (I counted three just at my gate on the way back--although I did cut myself some slack and count it even if only one of the portable electronic devices concerned was an actual Blackberry). Apparently it's rife in the Real Estate community.

Anyway, Dan, if you're out there, that was the best plane flight ever. I got:

• a great conversation
  

• a new pastime (highway alphabet was getting dull)


• my faith in humanity

That's a pretty smokin' gift with purchase--way better than frequent flier miles. Thanks again!

Now That's a Public Bathroom

But is charging five pounds enough to keep it nice?

It's Like Ivory, Only Made Out of Harriet

I'm not sure how I feel about this.

Should I be disappointed that I don't have any wisdom teeth? (I never had any--I'm very highly evolved.) Or should I just be glad that no one will be wearing my bone as jewelry?

It's Official

I'm no longer part of the prime demographic. I can't remember where it begins and ends, but I'm fairly certain that, at the ripe old age of 35, I've been booted.

There was a period in my life where I was watching adult TV shows when other people my age were watching "Blossom" or whatever else they had for kids my age. My favorite show got canceled. Every single time.

When "Friends" came out, I liked it, so I was pretty sure it would be canceled. After all, lots smarter shows got canned, and I had liked those, too. But it didn't get canceled, and that's when I realized that I had become a part of the prime demographic--that my age (and therefore my presumed disposable income) meant that my opinion mattered just a little bit more than usual for a very brief period of time.

I know the market is thick with medical mysteries right now, and that "House" is a tough show to beat. I know that most people will probably only allocate one hour to the medical mystery in their weekly TV viewing, and to those people I say, "Of course you must choose `House.'"

And next to House, Stanley Tucci's character (whose name I didn't even have a chance to learn) was barely abrasive enough to warrant mention. But I was still pretty enamored of the show. And when I read of its cancelation yesterday, I realized that my time in the prime demographic is over.

I'm pretty sure after 35 you enter the category of "people who have lots of responsibilities to go with their money and therefore can't be as easily persuaded to part with huge wads of cash for largely irrelevant items." This means we get to sit back and pray that eventually some network will program the equivalent of "Murder She Wrote" in an attempt to win market share by courting the less desirable spenders in the TV audience.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to order some brochures on old folks homes.