Finally got some energy back!

The bronchitis has officially left my body. If only I could say the same thing about the neck ache I'm sportin'.

With the bronchial tubes cleared up, I've gotten back into my "to do" list:

1. I painted our bedroom
2. I bought lawn equipment (God bless Sears' lawn and garden sale!)

Tomorrow I'm weeding the garden; laying mulch and doing a second coat on the bedroom walls.

Ahhhh. It feels good to be alive again.

Erin, Interrupted

I wish I could say I've started tackling items on my "Things to do while Aaron is in India" list, but the only thing I've done since Sunday is lie in bed. Turns out my cough is really bronchitis and it has landed me out of work for three days.

Normally, I relish the thought of having the house to myself for three days, but the truth of it is I feel miserable. I had a breakthrough this morning and have managed to cut my coughing down to little fits every 30 minutes (they used to be every 5). I haven't slept a whole night since Friday and I've managed to nearly sprain my neck and ribcage from coughing so much. Yeah, it's been a good time.

More than the achey muscles and the wet, hacking cough what I'm really disappointed about is that I've not been able to accomplish some of the personal goals I'd wanted to achieve:

• Work out every day
• Head to Monday night dance class to see what other teacher is like
• Begin painting bedroom
• Try new recipies
• Clean like it's my job

No -- I've not done anything on my list. The closest thing I come to a work out is walking from the kitchen (downstairs) to the bedroom (upstairs). The bedroom still sits half-taped waiting for me to finish the taping and then priming. Clean? Heh. I've barely had the energy to do my own dishes.

Aaron's jaw would drop if he saw how messy I've let the house become. Normally I'm a neat freak, this week I'm just happy to brush the crumbs off the counter.

I'm vowing to get this stupid virus out of me and to start getting back on track. Aaron's being gone is almost like my own litle version of an Erin Vacation and I'm not going to spend the whole thing sick.

Now excuse me, I have to cough.

Are you Great?

Odds are if you've ever been to a leadership conference you've heard someone mention the book "From Good to Great" by Jim Collins. Most people in a leadership role have read it, learned it and tried to live it.

I'm not a senior leader, but I have read the book. It had a lot of great ideas, but the question I found myself asking before, during and after reading the book was how does one define Great?

There are no indicators of Greatness. You can't accomplish X number of sales to be defined as Great; can't write X number of words to earn the title; you can't write X lines of code and gain admission to the Great club. Great is in the eye of the beholder.

Recently, I've been corresponding with Penelope Trunk of Brazen Careerist fame. If you haven't seen her site, visit it. I promise you'll pick up a thing or two. She and I have had an e-mail conversation about career direction. As a career coach, she's good at dispensing advice. She's posed a lot of good questions that have really made me think.

One of the conversations we've had is about Greatness. In my quest to figure out what direction I should take with my career, she asked me in a roundabout way if I'd done anything Great. In keeping with my "how do you define Great?" I told her that I wasn't really sure -- my division president knows my name as do the senior managers, but did I have any huge accomplishments? No.

As I continue to figure out how to define Great; I'm also still chasing it.

If pregnant or trying to become pregnant...

Trying to get pregnant represents a new phase in my life.

Instead of swallowing BC pills, I pop a daily multi-vitamin (okay, I've been taking those for a few years, too); instead of wine with dinner, I now have iced tea; instead of ibuprofen for a headache, I find a warm wash cloth. I fear that I'll ruin my chances of getting pregnant if I pop an Advil or take a swig of wine so I've dropped them altogether.

This weekend, however, I've developed a nasty bought of chest congestion that has me wishing triaminic came in a pregnancy formula.

At the store yesterday, I ventured into the tall aisles of medicinal goodness. I don't think I ever in my life realized how many medicines you're discouraged from taking if you are planning to be -- or when you are -- pregnant. Got a running nose? Stay clear of the Sudafed. Hacking cough? Triaminic isn't for you.

The worst part of this is that I don't even know if I am pregnant. Aunt Flow's arrival -- or non-arrival -- isn't due for a few more weeks. So I wait. And cough. I'm too nervous to take cough medicine for fear there actually is a little embryo in there; but the cough is getting to the point where I've rubbed my throat the wrong way.

What's a potentially, or wanne-be, pregnant woman to do?

Thankfully for him, Aaron is in India; he doesn't have to listen to my up-all-night coughing fits. By the time he returns I'm hoping for a different kind of sickness...

Erin Experiment: The Spin-Off

My product props have produced an Erin Experiment spin-off: thedailyproduct.blogspot.com

Further encouraging me to post daily, the new blog introduced a product I can't quite live without.

Head on over. Check it out; add it to your RSS feeds. I promise you'll like it.

Small Minds

One of the blogs I read daily, WSJ's The Juggle featured a blog post that hit close to home for me: Coping with a Long Trip. Anyone who has read this blog knows that my husband is leaving on Saturday for a trip to India. I'm torn up over it, mostly because I'm going to miss him. A part of it has to do with our trying to get pregnant and the trip's ill-timing. I'm proud of him and realize my eggs can hang out for another month while they await fertilization.

In WSJ's blog, I made a similar comment in reference to my husband's leaving. I also made a comment about our trying to have a baby.

Ms. Small Mind (read the post and scroll down about 15 or so comments) made a comment about my sharing too much information when it came to our "conception cycle." Initially I was annoyed but it's grown into frustration with how small minded people can be.

For some of us, things don't come naturally: some people weren't born with the inherent ability to code computers; some weren't born with the ability to throw a curve ball; some weren't born ovaries that impregnate without planning or assistance.

Thank god for the few folks that got a chuckle or appreciated where I was coming from.

Hip Hop Playlist

Every Tuesday night from 6:45-7:45 I sweat my ass off like nobody's business at my Hip Hop dance class. It's a great class and winds up being a workout even if it doesn't feel like it. One of the advantages to the class is the music -- it's great. Despite dancing to it every week, I still find myself wanting to listen to it on the treadmill. Here's a taste:

1. Goodies; Ciara featuring Petey Pablo
2. Bojangles; Pitbull
3. It's Goin' Down ; Yung Joc featuring Nitti
4. Get UR Freak On; Missy Elliott
5. Snap Yo Fingers; Lil Jon featuring E-40 & Sean Paul
6. Ms. New Booty; Bubba Sparxx
7. Get Low; Lil Jon and the East Side Boyz
8. Percolator; Cajmere
9. Candy Shop; 50 Cent

Product Props: Goody Two Shoes

I'm in love with my summer shoe: A Skecher Sport Fusion Sandal. They are brutally comfortable to the point that I almost don't want to take them off. I find myself planning my work outfits around the possibility that I can wear these things.

They're comfy as hell. Go get a pair.

The good and not-so-good way to congratulate your spouse

There's a good way and a not so good way to congratulate your spouse:

Good way: "Great Job Hon! Congratulations on that new job/awesome assignment/life-changing career move. I'm really proud of you."

Not-so-good way: "Wow. You're leaving for how long? What does this do to my vacation?"

Take it from me: life -- and your relationship -- goes much smoother if you elect to go the good way route.

Confession: I am an M&M junkie

In my department we have a special cubicle where one could go to get a fix -- a chocolate fix.

Our dealer is really good about keeping the goods available to us at all times which makes it really hard when you're (a) low on will-power and (b) hungry for chocolate. I'm positive the M&M cubicle has led to my diet demise. That and Taco Bell.

Back when I was trying to be more of a work-out junkie than an M&M junkie I could overcome it. Lately, though, I've been lacking in the will power to just say no. Until Today.

I'm renewing my committment to track what I eat and work out more often. With Golden Boy off to India in a couple of weeks I'll have 12 evenings free to work my little arse off. Hell, I might even pull an abbreviated "Mirror Has Two Faces" and tone up and bring sexy back.

I'm blaming India if I don't get pregnant this month

My husband the geek is at it again. Golden boy has been handed the all-time perfect assignment: he's being flown to India to work on a project for one of the largest companies in the world.

He'll be gone for 12 days. He leaves on day 6 of the six-day window we have to conceive this month. He returns the day before we leave for a week-long vacation. This puts him out of town for almost two weeks and during the fourth of July festivities.

As we don't have a land line and we're cheap, this also means no phone calls.

I'm a mix of feelings -- on one hand this is insanely good for his career. It's a defining moment for him. It could launch him into engagements he's only dreamed about. It's hard to compete with that.

Only, I've waited for two years to try to conceive. The more selfish side of me wants to tell him to stay. As sappy as it sounds, he's my best friend. Twelve days of talking only over e-mails during what feels like a pivotol time in our lives doesn't seem fair and I'm tired of getting the short end of the fair stick.

I'm lucky. He's not going to war; he's going to India. He'll pig out on foods I can't stand and come back smelling of horrendous curry for which he won't be able to rid himself of the entire time we're on vacation.

Oh well. He'll go. I'll live. Life will go on. Good times.

Props for Victoria's Secret

I think I discovered one of Victoria's secrets. Their return policy is pretty darn good.

It takes a lot for me to be impressed with a retail outlet. I tend to be a get in/get out sort of shopper. The customer service at most of these places leaves a lot to be desired.

I was willing to go on living in my cynical shopping world until I popped a wire in my bra. This isn't just any bra. It's the BEST bra. It hugs my 38D's like nobody's business. Let me go on record as saying Victoria's Secret Very Sexy push-up without padding smooth balconet bra is the best bra in the world.

Back to my popped wire. I was in VS buying another wonder-bra when I happened to mention to my friendly VS bra girl that the reason I was purchasing was because the wire had popped out. She then informed me that if I brought the broken one in I could exchange it for no cost.

No cost! The original bra had been purchased out of state 7 months earlier and they still took it.

Thank you Victoria and your secrets.

The funny thing about trying to have a baby

I can't help but feel like a seventh grade girl whenever I, or my husband, admit that we're trying to have a baby. I might as well have a big, bold t-shirt on that reads "My husband and I are having lots of Sex!"

I felt the same way when I first got my period. I was sure everyone could tell I was sporting an Always Maxi between my legs. Whenever talk of menstruation, periods or "the rag" would come up I felt a sense of pride: "I've been inducted to the period posse."

Ironically enough, my period only paid me a visit a few instances from the time it started in seventh grade to the time I got worried -- mid-high school. By that time, I wanted to have regular periods. Add to that the fact that my mom was giving birth to twins while I was in high school and you had the perfect recipe for birth control.

I've been on birth control since I was 17. That is up until last Saturday when I swallowed my last Ortho-TriCylen. Now, I'm subject to cheers and jeers from complete strangers and the occasional internal giggle when I openly admit

I'M HAVING LOTS OF SEX WITH MY HUSBAND!!!

My husband the geek

My husband is jockeying for Microsoft's Golden Boy of the Year award.

He's written a post about some blog war that he's entered into with another uber techno geek.

I wish I could tell you what the geeks were arguing about. Something about Ruby and .net and a threesome they regretted. Nah, actually my geek created a batch of code that does something with linq (I get wife points for knowing it's called i4o). The other geek said something disparaging about i40 and a war of words has been waged. So far My Geek 1; weiner geek 0.

There's no living with my Microsoft Golden Geek. He's been on cloud 9 about the press he's getting for his i4o and then the blog war. He's become such hot stuff that he's been interviewed by the geek of all geek magazines: Microsoft .net developer or something like that. He even had to send a head shot (shown above) which I took and still have yet to receive payment for.

Wedding Target

Had it been an option when I got married two years ago, I would have checked out Target's dresses and probably bought one.

See, I was one of those mature brides who knows that weddings aren't the most important day of your life -- just a momento of a new phase of your life.