Eli has recently informed me that gasoline is the most beautiful of all smells. He has brought this up several times. I think we may have some problems coming in the future.
The combination of daylight savings time change plus molars erupting in a toddler is a lethal one. This morning started at 3:55 am.
On being tired...
I never realize that I have issues with being overtired and crabby until one of my detestable cats do something to irritate me. Then my reaction is disproportionately irate. This morning at 6:20 am, while I was trying to put my contacts in eyes that were only partially opened, Fat Linda decided to perform her usual "all up in my business trick" on the bathroom counter, walking around knocking everything over with her rotund, clumsy body. When my open contacts case hit the floor, something inside me cracked and I lost it. I screamed, "Stinking Linda! You fat piece of crap!" (I might have used another word, but it was early and my mind is still foggy, I'll know when I hear one of my kids walking around saying it today). She narrowly escaped being thrown outside.
On exercise...
I've heard that exercise can decrease stress and your pants size (and bolster a flat butt) so every day, I have been running in place in my living room for 4 hours. There is a hole in my carpet and my children, who have been left unattended, have repainted my kitchen. I think I am ready to sign up for the next Chicago marathon. I could literally give those Kenyans a run for their money.
On my vehicle...
You may recall that I am stubbornly opposed to driving a minivan. Yes, it may make sense when you have two kids and are at a certain stage in life but I can't seem to shake this feeling. The reason I bring this up again is that Mark and I have the opportunity to acquire a minivan (we are not going to steal it). Mark is all for it and I am dragging my feet. He has offered to make it his main vehicle so I can continue to drive my beloved Honda Civic. This is the length my pride will take me (but maybe any potential vixens who are eyeing my husband will be dissuaded by his 'family vehicle'). Where does this all come from? I have an idea... When I was 17, my mom told me I could have a car to take to college with me. I was thrilled. Then she gave me her old blue Astro minivan. As a freshman in college, I drove this van all over the place, though only by necessity. Once, I drove it from Chicago to visit my sister in Indiana. When I arrived, I opened the driver side door, only to have it fall off. Oops. Ariana, in a moment of pure genius, came outside to rescue me with a roll of duct tape. Shortly after that, the sliding side door came off the hinges and had to be locked closed and therefore never used. So, the only access to the van was through the passenger side door. To top it all off, the exhaust system fell off at some point so it always sounded like a lawn mower. Perhaps it is this experience that haunts my subconscious and begs me not to drive a van again. Unfortunately, I am losing the battle and you will likely see my husband driving our new (to us) family vehicle around soon. I'm old; time to deal with it. Maybe I should start wearing leather mini skirts to compensate (it's a good thing I have been running a marathon every day).
On with my life...
No comments:
Post a Comment