I am Batman. Or rather, Batwoman. No, seriously, apparently I am some lady's hero today who called work all in a tizzy because her pie dough turned out wonky. Forgetting the salt does that. Perhaps one day I'll even look good in spandex and a cape.

Besides my future as a caped crusader I like to think I'm a rather self-aware lady, and I mean self aware beyond the existential belief of both my physical and mental existence upon this plane of reality. Yeah, it's a work in progress but I've given a lot of time (oh, say about five minutes) to understanding my brain and why it prefers to think in shades of purple and glitter (there may also be polka dots) rather than in a more logical and linear manner. Well, I think we can toss "Lyra's Self Awareness Merit Badge" into the trash can. I swear, where does my brain get some of it's thoughts from? Obviously I didn't train it up right and it needs a choke collar and some correctional training. So, here's the sitch...

I was at work today doing my very best to help raise the sugar level in America (I'm a cake decorator, or as I like to say, 'Cake Diva') when one of my coworkers who is a teacher on the side said that she recommended me to teach a class next semester. Now this is good in several ways the first being that teaching one class will help me figure out if this is what I would like to do full time, and the second being that I would make a lot more money teaching than what I'm currently doing. Also, I'm bored and feel the need to stretch my gossamer (and delicately ephemeral) wings in order to expand my repertoire within my profession. So, this is good and I'm confident enough that I think I would be good at the job. However, the first thing that popped into my head was, "Well, if I get the job and as it doesn't start until August, then I probably wont be fat then and so will kick butt." *Beats brain with a rubber duck* What the hell?! Since when is my brain trying to play for the rival team in putting me down? Mutiny! You would think that since my brain is trapped in it's current flesh-mobile that it would be a little bit more respectful of my..er...rubenesque physique. Also, my butt stomping boots work no matter what size I am. It just kinda made me sad that I had this automatic thought about my innate ability vs my size. We get enough of that from the public without having to put up with that inside my own head! Bad brain! No cookies for you!

Okay, one other thing. Why do people, when they see someone like me eating a salad, ask "So, are you trying to lose weight?" I don't go over to skinny people who are eating burgers and say, "So, I see that you're working on that ol' beer gut. Good job!". Today I was eating my lunch (salad) and one of my coworkers asked me what dressing I was using. When I replied "olive oil and lemon juice" he commented that it is great for the middle of the body. *stink eye* Seriously? My middle is not up for public debate. In fact, my middle is under the Witness Protection Program and it's name has been changed so feel free to pretend that it doesn't exist. My reply to him was that, "I don't know what you mean" with my best Clint Eastwood stare. Cue uncomfortable silence and then his quick shuffle towards the door. Yeah, that's right, feel embarrassment and social discomfort brought about by your own clumsy inability to talk about the weather. *rolls eyes*

Tomorrow we're going to the zoo and I'm all aflutter! I do enjoy seeing the penguins and it sounds like a blast!