-my husband is on the couch (that's almost 3 whole days now) sick with "the S word". (i can't say it or i'll get it. it starts with an S and ends with a razor blade sliding down your throat. if you don't know what i'm talking about i'm jealous of your ignorance.)
-i am pms bloated beyond my ability to remain sane. this "cycle" of mine might be the death of me. if it's anything-it's inconsistent and if i'm anything-i'm bloated.
-i am STILL working on a whole bunch of crafty crap that i have to teach about in a class on tuesday at church. i have been going at this all day now. what is wrong with me?! oh, and remember that time when i said (in this post) i hadn't yet had an anxiety dream about it? well scratch that. i did. and i woke up in a cold sweat.
-i have a tension head ache from sitting at my desk all the do-da day long. i need a massage like my dog needs a bath. (she really, really needs a bath, by the way. somehow she managed to dig a hole-that's not surprising- turn on our hose-that was surprising-and fill the hole with water-um..do i have a canine or a child or just a canine with a retractable thumb? anyway, she made a muddy mess of her paws/hands.)
-the amazing grocery store 2 for $5.00 sugar cookies i bought for my sunday school class are SCREAMING MY NAME. do you hear it? i do. but they're not screaming loud enough because...
-my ipod, which is on shuffle, will NOT stop playing freaking britney spears. for cereal? dear ipod, when i feel like shaking my booty, singing solely out of my nose or shaving my head bald, i will listen to britney. until then let's get back to shuffling.
-i am totally aware of the fact that i haven't washed my hair since Tuesday. judge me. i don't give a rat's crack.
- i wish i were on a cruise. (that's pretty much a constant though..)
- i wish i were watching Mean Girls on that cruise.
oh, and i would also just like to mention that since my husband has been sick he has had the refined taste palate of a 6 year old.
grilled cheese and tomato soup
macaroni and cheese with hot dogs cut up in it
and a startling amount of blue gatorade.
i don't know if i'm nursing him back to health or into morbid obesity.
it's a fine line, i think.
but cross your fingers he gets better soon. i miss cuddling him.
lyrics: well it's all right. take a deep breath. close your eyes and wish it all away.