If you’ve been around me lately, you’ve probably noticed the following changes in me…

a) I’m donating plasma again, twice a week.  I ain’t fucking around.  And Plasma Guy no longer works there, so you can rest assured there is NO pre- and post-donation fliration going on.  And — bitch, please — I have a boyfriend who is ten-times the greatness of Plasma Guy.

b) Most of my meals consist of something that I made in a CrockPot with the strict intention that each serving costs around $1.00 to make.

c) I am scrounging for working hours, both at Best Buy AND at WTTS.  I’m actually contemplating just showing up for shifts for which I’m not assigned, and telling the scheduled employee to go home.

d) I am killing myself at the gym. And by “gym,” I mean the SportsPlex, so all that really means is that I make myself power-walk faster than your average southern-indiana suburban mom.

“WHY, OH, WHY are you making yourself SO DAMN RICH AND SKINNY, JENNY?!” You all ask.

And to you all, I say:

ALOHA, BITCHEZZZZZZZ!!!!

Come late April, I am going to HAWAII.
I am going to Hawaii with the man I am ridiculously in love with.

And it will be romantic and wonderful and warm and sunny and I’ll get a tan and get drunk on the beach and eat sushi that will. blow. my. mind.

But until then, it’s plasma, Crockpots, and outrunning soccer moms.
Bear with me.

…And pass me a few bucks.