Wendy's company -- part of my former employer -- laid off a bunch of folks today. It's scary as hell. I'm getting paranoid at work, too. Oh, for a lottery win. Of course, I'd have to play the lottery for that to kick in, and that's just not going to happen, as I never win anything (Hmmm. I think I'm beginning to see the problem...)

Went and worked out with my trainer tonight (and yes, that's on my mental list of Things To Go Immediately if something horrific happens work-wise), for one of the last times. She just got certified as a physical therapist, and is doing contracting gigs for a couple of different hospitals, so she's giving up her training clients. Alas. She's great, because she makes me work my ass off and makes me laugh at the same time. I don't know if I'll stick with a trainer when she goes -- I might try to motivate myself to go into the gym, but historically, I haven't been that successful. That, and she says the guy who'll probably take over my training is a fireman. Yowza. I think there's some city ordinance that you must be at least highly attractive to work for the fire department. I'm fine with that.

Why a trainer? Because I'm going to Australia (huzzah!) and I want to (1) climb the Sydney bridge, (2) take a three-day sea-kayaking trip, and (3) seduce Russell Crowe or some reasonable facsimile thereof. Actually, I'm kind of over Russell Crowe (I mean, Meg Ryan? What the hell?), but I'll take Hugh Jackman and/or Guy Pearce. I know, I don't ask for much.

Still having template problems, as you can probably tell. I'll try to straighten it out over the weekend, but I make no promises.