Yes, I will absolutely bribe people with carbs

Had my first Smackdown Staff Meeting (unofficial title). To get everyone happy and relaxed and playing nicely, I baked. From scratch. There were fresh apple muffins made with apples from my obliging (read: too lazy to pick their own dang apples instead of just letting them rot, wasters) neighbors' tree. They were fabulous, and excuse me while I go get another one. I did cheat a bit on the blueberry muffins, but that's because I haven't found a recipe yet that I love. So they came from a box, but it's from a Salt Lake City company. I tell myself that this somehow makes me a better person than I would have been if I'd gone with Duncan Hines. Also I added more blueberries.

Meeting went well, I think. I like to think things are generally going well here, but now that I'm the official Person We Will Blame And Possibly Burn Alive in a Public Ceremony of Some Sort if This All Goes to Crap I find myself thinking about work all the time and even dreaming about it. Which, hi, unless my work involves candle-lit workroom trysts with members of my breeches-wearing British male harem, I don't want to be thinking or dreaming about it when I don't need to be.

Also I'm slightly terrified that the place is just going to burn down one of these days and it will be on my head. Am also reminding myself not to do too much too fast (like take all the crap movies out of the collection and replace them with every BBC drama ever created--it's happening, but slowly).

Am also facing the fact that my semi-anonymity is even further compromised and that the ramifications would be even worse if I were to shoot my mouth off about something that I shouldn't. Which, really, is kind of lame. Don't worry though, you'll still receive unsettling updates about my greying ovaries, because like I could deprive the Internet of that.