Days 17+18 Anyone got a sammich?

Well, I am sitting here ready to burst. We have just gotten a huge commission - about 10 minutes ago and I can't tell anyone yet. I wasn't supposed to know, but was in my boss' office when the department head honcho came in, slammed the door shut and screamed. Then he said how many episodes we got and how much money too. Damn, the relevant research team is waiting right over there. These are my friends and I can't tell them. So right now I am quite literally hiding behind my pc. I think Honcho has gone to get champagne. That's usually what happens with a commission.

I am pretty narked about Britain's Got Talent last night. The Michael Jackson scouser dancers were so awesome, I nearly cried. When they got on stage and started performing, I jumped up and shouted, 'oh, no they didn't do Thriller!' but they did. I was so freakin' happy- they were dressed like zombies from the late 18th century and the choreography was definitely influenced by Thriller, but was still completely new and unique. And they still ended up getting knocked out for the monkey guy. The monkey guy who last night totally sucked balls.

In better news, I left work early yesterday and went to the gym. I did that arm bicycle thing. That shit's tough. I managed 5 minutes. And that was really pushing it. About 90 seconds into it I was exhausted. Fooked. And there was a smelly guy sitting at the one next to me, which contributed to my willingness to give up so easily. Sweaty wasn't at the gym this time- probably because I was so early. Update on the gym machine calorie burning crisis from yesterday. I went onto the older cross training machine and my calorie burning rate went super-high again. So I'll be sticking with the older machine. Who needs modern technology?

My waist is tiny today. Well, tiny for me. I'm not exactly spanning it with my hands, but a small child would be able to put their arms around my waist and touch their hands together. Okay, maybe that metaphor isn't the best. What I meant to say was that a grown-up with small arms would be able to put them around my waist. Not a child. Please don't call Protective Services.