Good thing THAT pitty party train has left the station.
Feeling a little better now. Thanks for the nice comments and kicks in the balls I received through email. Both worked. I have tuned back into the channel where my life is actually grand and lovely and full of grace and wisdom. Me loves this channel.
Let's get a little random, here. M'kay?
There's some weird thing going on at the house across the street. The house across the street, where Mighty M and I are convinced the "nice guy" who lives there who we rarely see and who backs his car all the way up to the garage each and every time is actually unloading dead bodies into his home. Or into his car. Either way, suspicious.
Every 2 minutes, a buzzer goes off. Not softly, mind you. As in I can hear it in the freaking shower across the street, behind lots of brick and glass and doors and stuff.
Two days now, mind you. Two full days. Every two minutes. Every two minutes.
Thank goodness for air conditioners, fans, the tv, and melatonin.
I have continued on my quest to be the most fickle and impulsive bride there ever was. No, not trading in my groom. But things with the wedding dress continue to evolve.
Actually, the evolution has been halted this week, but my FMIL thinks I'm crazy. Everyone else would, too, but I haven't told them yet.
There is absolutely nothing more satisfying than going for a run in the pouring rain.
There is absolutely nothing more surprising than looking down and realizing you're wearing a white shirt and a white jog bra.
There is absolutely nothing more welcomed than turning around that very moment and seeing Mighty M drive up on his way home from work, ready and willing to give you and your corruption of minors getup a ride.
When you get a development and marketing nerd together with a graphic design nerd to "proof" their wedding invitations, expect a lot of edits.
The mid-atlantic states have dried up of all Olympic distance races that I can race in August or September. There's like none. A ton of sprints, just no Olympics that fit with the your-life-is-dictated-by-the-wedding calendar.
Sprints it is. As many as I can get.
I continue to have trouble getting up in the morning. I'm convinced there is a lazy gene that is only expressed when you introduce sugar free chocolate pudding and salt and pepper popcorn into one's diet. Separately, of course.
I've gained two pounds on the pudding and popcorn diet described above. I feel like I've gained 10. I've done the math and it doesn't work out. It never does.
I've put a new sprint distance on my calendar for August 17th. Actually, to be more accurate, a sprint distance I've always planned on doing has managed to remain on the calendar, even after repeated attempts of my so-called-life to intervene.
In related news, my sister the all knowing maid of honor has planned a cool Beach-lorette weekend for me and the girls in September. Seems there's a tiny little sprint right there, that very Saturday morning.
These poor bridesmaids. Think I can convince them all to come? Bonus point to get them in the water.
I could go on forever like this. I should never consider Twitter. It would be as bad as facebook. (By the way, I'm a fan of the new layout. You? Discuss amongst yourselves.)
Instead, I'm going to opt for something productive. Coffee has finally kicked in. Freaking popcorn gene.
Thursday, July 24, 2008