You do not want to read this

I sometimes forget who I've invited to read this blog. I've got a select few people from work, most of my family and a few blogging friends I've met in my travels here. Added to these are the countless others who are "friends" on FaceBook and follow the trail from my info. (I say "friends" because really, if I haven't talked to you since grade school, you are no more a friend than the lady who makes my breakfast at the cafeteria every morning. Don't get me wrong, she's great and she sure knows her bacon, but I don't tell her about my milk boobs or my suicidal friends.)

So ya, a bit off topic there. I'll often sit down and blog out a rant about work or my husband or the dog poo that built to phenomenal proportions in my yard last week and then I stop and think about my coworkers, my family and my Facebook non-friends and just press Delete. It's a weird juxtaposition. This is my space to empty my head (ya, ya, I know half of you just thought to yourself "not much work to do that Lu!") and get my thoughts straight ("Ha - Lucy straight!"). But this is where people come to learn more about me. So do I really want them knowing that I got strangely sucked into watching a youtube video of a horse peeing the other day? Probably not. But that's me. And I'm not ashamed of me. I just prefer you to believe that I think of things like politics and world peace and solving poverty, not horse pee fetishists. (Oh and you just know THAT will come up in a google search soon).

Anyhow, as you can maybe tell, my brain is fried. It's been a stressful month with work and I've got quite insane. Today I have a meeting with my boss to find out why everyone else in my work stream was promoted to a new position except me (maybe because I blog at work?!). The fun never ends.

And so, I leave you with this deep thought: When someone tells you that they have to pee like a racehorse, do not cross in front of them or put yourself anywhere near their proximity. Trust me.