I haven't run in a week. That is unheard of. I feel like a flabby mass of flesh. But I don't feel flabby enough to get on the treadmill. I am way too tired. And I committed to not running for a week. Tomorrow is supposed to be the day I get back on. I hope I can.
The oven issue got fixed. The electrician came over for about five minutes and messed with the plug on the wall (some things were loose) and thankfully, we turned off the power in time for the whole thing to be prevented from melting completely. That was an expensive five minutes. Gee whiz.
I am on edge this morning because I got about three hours of sleep last night. The Professor has a cough that won't quit, so being as light a sleeper as I am, I had to take a trip to the couch early this morning to see if I could sleep an hour before I heard the usual whining of the day. When I opened my eyes I felt nauseous.
Why is life so wondrously beautiful when the Professor is home? I mean, on the weekends life blossoms and shines no matter how dreary a circumstance may be. I think it is because I hate making decisions. I would much rather the man pull the sheets from the bed with me in it saying, "up and at 'em!" than me trying to decide if I truly want to get up or not. It took me till three thirty in the morning to decide to leave the bed last night with the man's constant coughing. If he would have said, "Go downstairs and get some sleep," I would have obeyed.
I will make decisions today. Life will be merrier.
Holy cow, my Oldest lost a tooth last night (a big molar) and I forgot to put money in the blasted cup (we use a cup). Now he is halfway convinced I am the Tooth Fairy. I should just make the decision to make my confession.
On Saturday we had to go to the Apple Store in Richmond and on the way my son wiggled out a tooth (he has lost three in the last three days). The Professor hates the mention of teeth and blood and looseness, so we are all very quiet about it, but the Oldest accidentally dropped the blasted thing somewhere on the seat. The man lost it and demanded that I go and help the boy find the tooth. We finally found it, the boy was sitting on it, and I ordered him to just chuck it in a parking lot. He did.
"What about the Tooth Fairy?" he asked.
"These are dire circumstances," I said, digging through my purse, "here's a buck."
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5 comments:
You just described the way I feel most of the time.
you know I just realized that one time I went to the dentist and he pulled two wisdom teeth and I had to pay him. what the heck?
I serioulsy hope you get your sleep issues settled,mine are making me crazy.
My nine year old panics about loose teeth. She has one that has been hanging by a thread for days, but she won't pull it out. Poor li'l thing.
Why are you committed to not running for a week? Did I miss something? And I can't imagine you as a flabby mass of flesh in a million years. I have more flab on my big toe than you do on your whole body. ;-)
I agree with Groovy Mom. The only way you could be flabby mass of flesh is if you wrapped yourself in a cow carcass.
how do kids just sit there and slowly wrangle out a loose tooth?
as a 6'3" bogan, am i allowed to feel queazy at that?
Uncle Joe---What the heck is right.
Groovy---I committed to not running for a week because I have been feeling so terrible. I was even MAKING myself run even when I felt dizzy and then I would have a really awful day. I have some health issues I think. It could be all in my mind though. So---today I am to try to run a bit, and see what happens.
Sinta---thanks. But that was really funny.
Ponder---I used to do it all the time as a kid! I love loose teeth! I BEG my daughter to let me pull them out and she tricks me and stuff. Not nice.
Yes, you are allowed to feel queasy at that. The Prof. does, and he is not as tall as you. :)
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