Why Do I Even Bother?

Here is a page from the chapter of my life known as "Why Do I Even Bother?"

On Monday morning, I decided it was time to get this ass out running (again). Because, really, it was about time this ass wasn't taking up so much space.

So, there I was, out running with the dog. It was pitch black at 5 am, freezing cold, and I was almost done with a really good run (and feeling pretty damn proud of myself). As I turned the corner at the end of my street, I was thinking how good I felt and how this was going to be the start of a whole, new me. That's when I my foot went down into a dip in the sidewalk. My ankle rolled under me and I had a full on party with the pavement. I ripped my favorite yoga pants sliding up the sidewalk. When the 1.5 seconds (that felt like 20 minutes) passed, I stayed face down in a pile of leaves. I was afraid to even turn over because of the amount of pain in my ankle. I was sure when I rolled over that my leg would be going one way and my foot would go the other.

Luckily, I decided to take this lovely little spill next to a chain-link fence. I crawled over and pulled myself up. This was the real test. I had to see if my ankle was going to hold my weight. This would determine if I could hobble up the street to my house, or if I was going to have to call PJ to drive down to get me. Thank the lord, Jesus, I was able to stand on my foot. I made my way, ever so slowly, up the street to my house. The dog trotted faithfully beside me while I limped home.

Apparently, the universe likes me a little chunky. I tried to go out running. Instead, I'm under doctor's orders to rest my ankle and eat Halloween candy. (She didn't actually specify the candy part, but I'm just assuming that's what she meant when she said to take something for the pain.) Unfortunately, this little injury coincided with me having not one, but two 10 hour days at work. And I'll tell you, it's not so easy to rest, ice, and elevate while you're teaching. It's generally frowned upon to lay back with your foot up while you're teaching the children. So, I'm working my gangsta limp for the week. I'm really getting good at it. I'm almost ready to be cast in 50 Cent's next video.

I had a lovely picture of my fat cankle and my bloody knee to put here, but then you would see my non-manicured toes. Trust me, I'm doing you a favor by omitting it. Instead, please enjoy this photo of my boy, 50.

HEY! If you enjoy the blog, why not become a follower? I'm the one who's trying to remain upright. You can also stalk find me on Facebook and Twitter. Like the page and follow me!

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-->Are you clumsy, too? Feel free to share your story in the comments below...

Hamster Wheel

Sometimes I feel like a hamster. Not one of those cute ones who drives a Kia, either. Just a silly, little rodent stuck in that foolish wheel. This is one of those weeks when the daily routine is getting to me. Get up. Get kids ready. Get self ready. Drop kids off. Get to work. Teach. Get home. Make dinner. Try to clean up. Wash another load of laundry. Help with homework. Put kids to bed. Go to sleep. Rinse and repeat. 

I'm feeling like there aren't enough hours in the day to get everything done. I leave the house at 7:15 to drive the kids to school. I get home at 4:45 from work. As it is, I'm barely doing the basics. I haven't even figured out how to squeeze in a workout (or squeeze into my jeans). Sometimes I even sacrifice sleep to get stuff done. Ugh.  

I was about to start doing 87 million things tonight and then I decided to say "screw it" and took a bath instead. Sometimes you just need to leave the pile of laundry for another day. 

What I need is a little less this:

And a lot more this:

HEY! If you enjoy the blog, why not become a follower? I'm the one who's stuck in the hamster wheel. You can also stalk find me on Facebook and Twitter. Like the page and follow me!

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-->Is the daily grind getting you down, too? Feel free to share your story in the comments below...

Whatever...It's Friday.

This morning, I ran into Dunkin' Donuts for my daily fix. I picked the shortest line. Then I watched everyone in the line to my right just keep passing me with their completed orders. The guy behind me started to have a minor stroke because we had been waiting in line behind the same person for 11 minutes (an eternity when the line doesn't move). It turns out the man in front of me, after ordering his morning coffee, decided to buy $300 worth of gift cards, IN TEN DOLLAR INCREMENTS. I'm not sure if you've ever bought a gift card, but each one has to be scanned and then has the amount added to it - individually. Finally, the other cashier took pity on me and let me place my order with her. It was either because I was smiling at her or because the guy behind me was turning all red with steam coming out of his ears, cartoon-style.

I wasn't mad, though. It's Friday. You're not going to spoil the fact that my week is almost over.

I even contained myself when I got behind Mr. ArmorAll. I was driving along, just trying to get to work, when I stopped at a red light. The light turned green and I couldn't figure out why the guy in front of me wouldn't drive. Then, I could see him through his back window. He was very busy giving his car a good, detailed cleaning. He finally decided to drive, but he couldn't travel at more than 20 mph because it takes a lot of concentration to wipe down all of the leather inside your car. Normally, I would've had fantasies about rear-ending the stupid fool, but today, I didn't even beep. 

It's Friday, baby, and I'm ready for the weekend!

You're not supposed to text & drive, but no one ever said anything about detailing your car while you drive. Totally acceptable.

HEY! If you enjoy the blog, why not become a follower? I'm the one who's ready for the weekend. You can also stalk find me on Facebook and Twitter. Like the page and follow me!

**And be sure to visit my Zazzle store. Don't you need a new coffee mug or apron?

Do you tolerate people better on Fridays, too? Feel free to share your story in the comments below...

Wordless Wednesday - Breakfast of Champions

Because sometimes you need to eat salted, dark chocolate covered caramel for breakfast. 

Siri, WTF?

Siri and I had a little fight last week. Apparently, she just doesn't get me. 

I started the morning at Starbucks. I decided to get one of their new ham & cheese croissant squares for breakfast with my coffee. While I was driving to work, I ate some of the croissant. It was the most delicious thing I've ever had for breakfast. That's when it occurred to me that it must be disgustingly bad for me. How else could it taste so good? Naturally, I needed to know the calorie count on that hammy, cheesy deliciousness right away. The only problem was that I was driving when this thought occurred to me. So, I turned to my girl, Siri. 

"Siri, how many calories in a Starbucks ham & cheese square?"

"No, Siri, ham and cheese square."

"Siri, ham!"

(So, now I'm fighting with my mother.)

"Siri, ham!"

At this point, I was laughing hysterically. I was sitting at a red light, arguing with Siri, and crying from laughing so hard at info on Pam Grier and someplace named HAM that's 3,621 miles away from me. The guy next to me may or may not have been questioning my sanity based on how he was staring from his car. 

Siri and I are still working out our differences. She has learned to understand when I say ham and no longer tells me about Pam. She can always be relied on to read me my texts and usually understands what I say. And, true to her word, she is trying harder:

HEY! If you enjoy the blog, why not become a follower? I'm the one who's trying to ar-tic-u-late. You can also stalk find me on Facebook and Twitter. Like the page and follow me!

**And be sure to visit my Zazzle store. Don't you need a new coffee mug or apron?

Does Siri misunderstand you, too? Feel free to share your story in the comments below...

Eight Days a Week

I just have to say that I am loving my new job. It's a little crazy and a lot hectic, but I am really happy with my new school.

It's amazing, though, how adding 1 day a week has made me feel. I am so tired every afternoon. I feel like a zombie and I sleep like the dead (I'm even too exhausted for my insomnia). Adding one more day a week feels like 2 or 3.

Last year, when my day would end on a Wednesday, I would think to myself, "Great. One more day. My weekend is practically already here." Now, I'm one of those poor saps just trying to get by on coffee and Hump Day jokes because there are still TWO more days until the weekend. 

Not only that, but Fridays are wasted on me. I'm too tired to do anything fun. By Saturday, I start to perk up and then I wake up and Sunday has reared its ugly head. I hate Sundays. I always have. You start to think about the fact that the next day is Monday and you're about to start another full week. And there are so many things to do (laundry, cleaning, blah, blah, blah...) Even as a kid I hated Sundays. I'd be stressing about some homework that I hadn't quite finished and that damn 60 Minutes clock would start ticking down the minutes until bedtime (I loathe that clock).

I know I'll fall into a groove as things start to settle in. September is always a crazy month. Lately, though, these weeks just seem to run one right into the next. Here's to living it up this weekend and celebrating the end of another week that felt like it lasted at least 8 days.

Sunday night ticking of doom

HEY! If you enjoy the blog, why not become a follower? I'm the one who needs a few extra hours in the day for sleep. You can also stalk find me on Facebook and Twitter. Like the page and follow me!

**And be sure to visit my Zazzle store. Don't you need a new coffee mug or apron?

Are you tired, too, or is it just me? Feel free to share your story in the comments below...

Wake N Shake

There's been a crazy phenomenon happening in my bed. And before you cringe, or warn me about where babies come from, it's not that kind of phenomenon.

PJ & I both suffer from issues with the snooze button. I can hit that button in my sleep every eight minutes and still manage to wake up an hour late. In order to combat my snooze issues I set not one, not two, but three alarms for the morning. One is on my actual alarm clock, and two alarms are set on my iPhone. I don't always sleep well, so getting up in the morning isn't super easy.

PJ is even worse than I am. He used to leave his alarm clock all the way across the room and still manage to oversleep. This man sleeps like the dead. He would either never hear the alarm or walk across the room, turn off the alarm, and resume sleeping like nothing ever happened. Obviously, this would make arriving to work at a decent time a real challenge. 

PJ decided that he needed to take drastic measures. So he got a new app for his iPhone. Enter the crazy phenomenon - Wake N Shake. This app is terrifying. And, while it works wonders getting my husband out of bed daily, it is making me strongly consider sleeping in a different bedroom.

Close your eyes and I'll describe the scene. Okay, don't close your eyes because then you can't read, but try to envision this:

• You're sound asleep in your bed. All of a sudden, the scariest evil laugh you have ever heard starts echoing all around your room. (Why PJ chose this particular sound for the alarm really makes me question his sanity.) While you frantically try to figure out from where the evil laughter is coming (and how a murderous clown got into your bedroom), an earthquake hits. The bed begins to shake so violently, you're not sure whether your demise will be at the hands of the evil-laughing clown or the quake.

Lovely, right? Isn't that a beautiful way to arise from your slumber? Who needs chirping birds and the slowly rising sun when you can have evil laughter and earthquakes. The thing about the app that works for PJ is that you cannot turn off the alarm (scary, horrible, loud, evil laughing) until you violently shake your phone for a certain amount of time. The app refers to itself as the alarm clock with "no mercy." I'm just not sure what I ever did to deserve this. 

You can't stop shaking until you get to 100%. Not any wimpy shaking. You need to destroy that mother-effer.

Another added bonus: on those nights when I have insomnia, the stupid phone displays exactly how much time is left until it goes off. I get to look over at that asshole phone as it taunts me with "4h 20m till wake n shake."

So, while PJ has cured himself of sleeping through the alarm clock, I awake every day in terror. Please, help me. I'm a-scared.

HEY! If you enjoy the blog, why not become a follower? I'm the one who about to sleep in the kids' bunk beds. You can also stalk find me on Facebook and Twitter. Like the page and follow me!

**And be sure to visit my Zazzle store. Don't you need a new coffee mug or apron?

Do you have trouble getting up in the morning (there's an app for that)? Feel free to share your story in the comments below...