Whalloped by Fried Rice

This week has gone by pretty quick. Usually that is a sign of being really busy, but that wasn’t the case this week. Tuesday was short because I went to the optometrist around 5. We had dinner with the Ngs that night at Ayara, a local thai place. I ordered Ka-Pow rice, a fried rice dish infused with atomic chili peppers, and the week went downhill from there. Lets just say that a more proper name for that plate of misery is Ka-Poop rice (credit for the name goes to Ng).

Wednesday felt short, probably because I called it in after I finished my design review. That night, I woke up from a knarley stomachache and stumbled my way to the restroom. Nothing was evacuated, but I noticed that I was sweating as if I had just worked out. I went back to bed and woke up the next morning with my stomach feeling like it was tied up in knots again. To sum up what happened next, I ended up hollering @ TL to get me some water as I laid on my bathroom floor writhing around like a fish out of water. KA POW!

Needless to say, I stayed in on Thursday and vowed never to eat Ka-Poop rice ever again.

On the bright side, I got to watch a lot of tv on Thursday and I finished up Outliers. The last third of the book is somewhat disappointing because Gladwell goes on for a couple of chapters repeating the same thing but using different examples. An “Oh yea” moment that I identified with in the book was when Gladwell talked about meaningful work.

… autonomy, complexity, and a connection between effort and reward – are, most people agree, the three qualities that work has to have if it is to be satisfying. It is not how much money we make that ultimately makes us happy between nine and five. It’s whether our work fulfills us.

Work right now is certainly complex, and the rewards aren’t too bad either. The one thing that is lacking, and part of the reason I’m pursing an MBA, is autonomy. To be my own boss, to own my own work, that is the ultimate goal.

Now, time to finish out this week strong. Off to News Cafe to test if the old gut is still in working order. I’m nothing if I can’t pile gobs of food into the ol’ belly!