Sentences with phrase «then by dinner time»

Then by dinner time, a new couple thousand people have posted their resume and thus pushed your resume to page 20 of the job search.

Not exact matches

«You see,» my father explained every year as we sat down to eat, «this is the way to do it: a big breakfast to stretch your stomach, then no lunch, so by dinner time you're really ready for a full Christmas meal.»

For starters, if I know what I'm making for dinner by the time breakfast hits the table then I'm guaranteed to get a good meal made that day.

Typically a butternut squash dinner requires a long cooking time, but by cutting the squash into planks, then roasting them at a high temp, I was able to cook it in about 20 minutes, getting this sandwich into weeknight dinner territory.

If I purchase things that take a long time to prepare, such as sauces, and make quick eats at home, then I don't spend all night in the kitchen, and a have what amounts to being a custom - made TV dinner, which is fine by me.

If I purchase things that take a long time to prepare, such as sauces, and make quick eats at home, then I don't spend all night in the kitchen, and a have what amounts to being a custot - made TV dinner, which is fine by me.

I know, by the time we get dinner and homework done, it's bedtime for the kids and then we are wiped OUT.

There are very few times during the day when there isn't something to eat on offer, whether it be breakfast, pizza by the pool, lunch in the restaurant or allegro overlooking the pool who then go on to serve jacket potatoes, pancakes, ice cream and then afternoon tea and cakes, then dinner, then unfortunately nothing until 11.30 pm midnight snacks!!!! Drinks are plentiful and proper Coke etc although the cocktails did all taste the same but that sometimes depended on who made them.

Eating 4 - 6 times a day actually increases the metabolism and makes it far more efficient than going without breakfast, or just having a piece of fruit for lunch, then finding yourself starving by mid afternoon, short tempered and irritable (due to low blood sugar), then ending up eating either wrong foods or too much for dinner.

I would work until 5 pm, drive the 45 minutes home and then would cook dinner so it would be ready by 7 pm, have a shower, and then have about 1 hour to chill with my husband (boyfriend at the time) before I went to sleep and did it all again.

By then we still had about an hour and a half before dinner and were getting a little chilly so we found a nearby bar where we took our time warming up over a cold beer.

I like to throw everything together in the crockpot when I'm waiting for my lunch to cook and then by the time dinner comes around it's hot and ready!

I spent time with my friend Sandy getting our hair done at Runway Hair by Meg (see more of here work HERE) and shooting with Shailynn Photo and Film, meeting my blogger gals for sushi, enjoying my niece's and grandfather's birthday parties, enjoying dinner with Meeno and then driving the Alpine loop before family pictures.

And then I am going to have dinner with my parents — It's so nice to live close by, so I can see them a couple of times a month.

Then you're already primed to leave and if by chance you're having a really great time you can push your dinner back.

This may take some time but eventually he will remain in a sit position until after your dinner is over and then of course you should praise his actions by offering him up a nice hot meal that he can eat in his own food bowl, and only after everybody else is finished eating.

It went something like this: hotel check - in, locate room, locate wifi service, attempt connection to wifi, wonder why the connection is taking so long, try again, locate phone, call front desk, get told «the internet is broken for a while», decide to hot - spot the mobile phone because some emails really needed to be sent, go «la la la» about the roaming costs, locate iron, wonder why iron temperature dial just spins around and around, swear as iron spews water instead of steam, find reading glasses, curse middle - aged need for reading glasses, realise iron temperature dial is indecipherably in Chinese, decide ironing front of shirt is good enough when wearing jacket, order room service lunch, start shower, realise can't read impossible small toiletry bottle labels, damply retrieve glasses from near iron and successfully avoid shampooing hair with body lotion, change (into slightly damp shirt), retrieve glasses from shower, start teleconference, eat lunch, remember to mute phone, meet colleague in lobby at 1 pm, continue teleconference, get in taxi, endure 75 stop - start minutes to a inconveniently located client, watch unread emails climb over 150, continue to ignore roaming costs, regret tuna panini lunch choice as taxi warmth, stop - start juddering, jet - lag, guilt about unread emails and traffic fumes combine in a very unpleasant way, stumble out of over-warm taxi and almost catch hypothermia while trying to locate a very small client office in a very large anonymous business park, almost hug client with relief when they appear to escort us the last 50 metres, surprisingly have very positive client meeting (i.e. didn't throw up in the meeting), almost catch hypothermia again waiting for taxi which despite having two functioning GPS devices can't locate us on a main road, understand why as within 30 seconds we are almost rendered unconscious by the in - car exhaust fumes, discover that the taxi ride back to the CBD is even slower and more juddering at peak hour (and no, that was not a carbon monoxide induced hallucination), rescheduled the second client from 5 pm to 5.30, to 6 pm and finally 6.30 pm, killed time by drafting this guest blog (possibly carbon monoxide induced), watch unread emails climb higher, exit taxi and inhale relatively fresher air from kamikaze motor scooters, enter office and grumpily work with client until 9 pm, decline client's gracious offer of expensive dinner, noting it is already midnight my time, observe client fail to correctly set office alarm and endure high decibel «warning, warning» sounds that are clearly designed to send security rushing... soon... any second now... develop new form of nausea and headache from piercing, screeching, sounds - like - a-wailing-baby-please-please-make-it-stop-alarm, note the client is relishing the extra (free) time with us and is still talking about work, admire the client's ability to focus under extreme aural pressure, decide the client may be a little too work focussed, realise that I probably am too given I have just finished work at 9 pm... but then remember the 200 unread emails in my inbox and decide I can resolve that incongruency later (in a quieter space), become sure that there are only two possibilities — there are no security staff or they are deaf — while my colleague frantically tries to call someone who knows what to do, conclude after three calls that no - one does, and then finally someone finally does and... it stops.

A rep for Joan Collins has told The Huffington Post: «Joan Collins recently contacted Simon & Schuster to alert them that an error in facts was made in the publication of Shirley Jones» new autobiography whereby it claimed Shirley and her then husband, Jack Cassidy, were asked by Anthony Newley and his wife at the alleged time, Joan Collins, to get naked and watch pornography following a dinner party.