So one of the things that I have been doing is loading up our medical forms into a library of PDFs on the hospital's intranet site. This is accomplished in one of several ways. The form can be sent to me as an electronic file, which I convert to a PDF because the secretary who builds the forms can't manage to do that, or I can receive a paper copy of the form from the print shop because they seem to have a deal with the last typesetter in the world, who gives them forms as hard copy to put on a copy machine and then I scan the forms and created PDFs from the scan ( a real fucking pleasure to do, because they are multiple page forms and have to be converted in a "special" way) or finally, sometimes, the print shop sends me files and I can convert them from PageMaker to PDF.

Yesterday we had a department meeting where it was announced with great anticipation and pride that we were going to be putting all our medical forms into wireless tablet PCs for the docs to drag around. Uh, yeah, I have a question.... since I have a stack of 57 forms waiting for me to scan in and convert to PDF because NOBODY, but nobody has them in any sort of electronic format, could you tell me where the forms for the tablets are going to come from, and can I get copies?

Later in the same meeting, it was revealed that we were going to be rolling out the new, great on-line job application program. And what will we be doing with my existing job listings? Will I be linking to somewhere else? Throwing away my page? Re-directing? Anybody? Anybody? I'd like to buy a clue, please.

And then the meeting wrapped with the presentation of the new, improved splash page which it was also announced I was currently producing. I am not. I was not at all involved in the "development" of this new look and feel for my site. The infamous PR department used an outside designer to create the new look. They had been tasked with developing a new organizational structure for the web to make it more marketing driven. They came back with a Photoshop sketch of a new splash page.

I cannot tell you how many times I have pleaded and begged and expounded about splash pages being a total waste of bandwidth and an artifact of first-generation web design which was nothing more than brochure ware.

And there I sit, with the department director beaming at me and announcing that I am responsible for our new look.

If I wasn't on this stupid carb-free diet, I would be stinking drunk.

For whatever reason this morning I woke up in a blue funk. Possibly it was my dreams, although I don't remember anything that would have been depressing in them. Possibly it was the undercurrent of worry I'm living with these days (Mummy has Alzheimer's and Daddy has just been diagnosed with a chronic form of leukemia, and they are both 85 and live hours away from me). It could just be a post-beach depression, as the tan begins to fade and the job regains its hold on my soul.

Whatever. Blue fucking funk. So I did the only thing I could do: I got to the office, booted up the old green i-mac that sits on the desk next to where I really work and loaded up the mp3s. All the Springsteen boots that I could cram on that old hard drive. And I cranked it up and clamped on the headphones. A couple repeats of Badlands ("It ain't no sin to be glad you're alive"), a lost and live accoustic version of Bobby Jean, and an extended Rosalita and Sandy, and you know what? I'm ready to face the world again.

In fact, I'm ready to call my rocker girlfriend and ask if there's room on the tour for me. Just a long weekend, pledged to the church of rock and roll.

And on Friday, I'll do the thing I've done every Fourth of July since 1976: I'll put on Greetings from Asbury Park, lay on the floor and turn the volume up to 11. And listen one more time to Sandy.

I recommend it for you, too.

"The calla lillies are in bloom again, such a marvelous flower. I carried them on my wedding day, and now I carry them for another reason." Or something like that. It's the only impression I do of a famous person. And now, Miss Hepburn has joined the pantheon of the dead.

Well, the village theatre group where she and Greg Peck are now is just going to have the best season ever.

Actually, I do a fairly mean "I coulda been a contender." but that's another story.

I'm stalling here. I do not want to eat my oatmeal and fruit. I do not want to take my shower and dress, and I most certainly do not want to climb on the train and go back to work.

But since when has what one wants to do have anything at all to do with what one MUST do?

Well, we have returned from a week at the shore. I am a lovely shade of golden brown, like a perfectly grilled marshmallow. No snickers, please. And I came home to find that Blogger has switched me to DANO, the legendarily despised and trouble filled new version of my blogging software. This is just what I need.

On the other hand, the vacation was wonderful. I accomplished all my goals: I got tan. I read the new Harry Potter. I slept a lot and then I napped. I shopped. I ate some great food. And I didn't think about my office once. Except when I mentioned that my boss plays golf.

More later, but it's nice to be home.

Gentle Readers,

I'm not sure if I'll be out of pocket for a week, because I'm heading for the left coast, and don't know if I'll have internet access during my stay on the Gulf. I have a suitcase full of bikinis and t-shirts, and a cooler full of boat drinks. There's a copy of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix waiting for me at a local, independent bookseller, so whether it rains or shines, I'll be suitably entertained. We are scheduling a visit to the Ringling School of Art to schmooze the head of the illustration department on behalf of my other half. I've downloaded the Zagat guide for Sarasota and Tampa, and a quick check of the baseball schedules reveals a week-long home stand by the Tampa Bay Devil Rays against the New York Yankees. That oughta be fun to watch. Even though I bet fabric on the TBDR, in the most locked-down secret part of my heart, I'll always be a Yankees fan. If I rooted for any American League team. (Hate the designated hitter rule.)

So know that if I'm not posting, I'm taking photos and making notes of all the annoying things I see. I'll report back when I can. Air kisses on both cheeks, sweeties and don't forget me while I'm gone.

Short answer: no. Unless it's low-fat cheese, because I'm on a mission to lower my cholesterol. This is karma for telling my father-in-law (OBM) not to worry, but to just eat the damn onion ring, because, trust me, something OTHER than his cholesterol was going to kill him first. For the record, I was right, and also for the record, he started enjoying his food again after I told him that. And he did eat the onion rings. But for the first however many years I knew him, his mantra was "Cholesterol, cholesterol, cholesterol." He worried about that like politicians worry about approval ratings. If I used a tablespoon of butter in a recipe that made 12 servings, he got on my case that I was trying to kill him. So I'd break it down: one tablespoon is three teaspoons and that means each serving has only a quarter of a teaspoon of butter in it. Give it a rest. He wouldn't. But there were things he couldn't identify in my cooking, and I never told him that the reason he loved my matzoh balls was because I used freshly rendered goose fat in them. Bwa-ha-ha.

Right. Now, despite the fact that I only make goose-fat laden matzoh balls once a year, and then only eat one, I have been told I have high cholesterol. Since wagging fingers at my gene pool won't do me any good, my doctor has determined that I need to change my diet and exercise more. The biggest change in the old diet is that I have to eat constantly, or so it seems to me.

My idea of a big breakfast is three cups of coffee. I now start each day with a bowl of McCann's oatmeal and a cup of fresh fruit. Then there's a midmorning snack, a protein-rich lunch, a midafternoon snack, dinner and a little something to tide me over until the next day. This is to keep my metabolism busy. It's keeping me crazy. I don't snack. I don't eat lunch. Except, well, now I do. And you know what? It's working. At least, I'm losing weight. I hope that my cholesterol levels are dropping as well as my jean size, but I won't know for another two months.

Wish me luck.