Yes.
I know. I didn't do it right. Made the schedule. Declared the schedule, but Ignored the schedule. Pretty soon they'll stop calling me ScheduleWoman, too. Although I do think I have a pretty good excuse for not
exercising. I was in the hospital. For a lung infection of unknown name. So I named it myself. Pneumonia. What's wrong with you doctors! Can't you just throw us a diagnosis so that when the well-meaning but relentless phone calls start coming, I can say, "pneumonia" and they understand and then I can try to sleep some more. Yes, OK, I'm sounding like a
raving lunatic here, but let me just say a few words.
Prednisone.
Levaquin. Prednisone + Levaquin = crazy girl. CRAZY. And not as in fun,
“Let's just do it! Get in! We'll leave right now, no packing!”
crazy. Crazy as in paranoid and everyone is out to piss me off (and
doing a DAMN fine job of it, I must say.) That kind of crazy.
Surprised you're still reading. But maybe that quickly melting popsicle I've got pointed
at you (with red #5 dye) and aimed (at your new, white, linen shirt that you paid way too much for, but it's from Coldwater Creek and it was a good deal! Marked down of course. No longer $193, now selling for a mere $90. Not a cheap thing! But quality, so you splurged). Hmmm...where was I? prednisone side-effect "inability to concentrate."
OK, you don't want red popsicle on white shirt so you're still here. Listening. Trying not to show how frantic you are. I don't care. I'll do it. I'll throw this soggy, mostly melted menace at you. Here's what it comes down to: is the matter worth it, as in replacement cost of fine, white linen(which I would of course pay, I'm not THAT crazy) (I don't think...) vs. the supreme victory gained when foiling an irritant with a quick, clever, (but perhaps costly) solution.
Remember when Jim asked Dwight, " Dwight! How much did the
exercise ball cost?" "
"Why do you want to know?"
"I'm in the market for one."
Dweebie Dwight was using it as an office chair and driving Jim insane as he worked next to not just bobblehead Dwight, but rolling, grinding, ass-shaking Dwight. Who said, “$25”. Jim grabbed a pair of
scissors, stabbed the ball. Sat down. Looked at the camera and said,
“Totally worth it.” Deflating Dwight's ego also comes to mind...
I'm now pondering, during my obsessive-compulsive not many have commented yet, state of mind and I gotta get that comma in there or they'll kick me out of Blogland! morning routine. OOPS. Seems that clarifying the Jim/Dwight thing with more real estate in the post probably has done just the opposite of what I wanted. Which was to convince you that I'mjustfinethankyouverynmuch.
You're looking a little less scared
straight. Good job. Lull me into relaxed mode. Last post I promised that we (my blog and I)were
getting into a training mode for the April challenge, (see sider bar, grab big ass badge, see tabs, it's got its own tab and if you're not signed up yet, get your ass shaking, click the tab, and do join! I mean, what are you, CHICKEN?) and as a co-host of this awesome event, I thought it prudent that I post every other day until then. "My own kinda spring training." Well, that was a bit too abrupt of
a work-out regimen. To go from mostly slumberous for most of 2011
(not a good year...just check out number of posts 2010 and then 2011
and you'll see what I mean) to all this A-Z Challenge stuff, AND blog
every-other day just didn't happen.
However,
I am a fairly clever woman. For example, if I have a list of things
that I plan to do in a day, and I do something that wasn't on the
list, I write it down and then check it off. I see it as a matter of
integrity. I must report my life as it happens, and if running into
a friend in the grocery store ends up a martini lunch at my favorite
pub, then I will go home and write “put away groceries”. And
check it off. Not just getting groceries. I also put them away!
Then go take a nap because martini lunches make me sleepy by about
2...and not be able to check-off “fold laundry”. But hey, I
added a task, so the tasks to completed tasks remained a constant
ratio. You're probably not still listening. You saw me finish that
popsicle and snuck back to your computer. Out of range. That's OK.
I'm not mad anymore. I'm ready to tackle my email inbox. Just as
soon as I cross off “post something today”. Done!
P.S The hospital part and the drug part are actually true. I was hospitalized for almost a week with an unknown yet rather nasty lung infection. Been home on bedrest a week. Have at least another week to go. I don't bedrest well. I have too much experience with it. Just use my search thingie and you'll see. Watch out though, those posts contain a LOT of whining. I warned you!
P.P.S This post has a hidden game in it. It's got a movie quote, it's got a scene from a sitcom, AND a mathematical error...I expect that most of you will get the first two questions right. I also predict that even if you completed your math requirements using crappy curriculum (heinous crime, by the way) you will still spot the math error. The real trick though isn't to spot it. It's to explain why it's wrong. However, I believe in America and our public schools and our over-worked, under-paid crusaders, out there spreading precious, useful knowledge to rooms full of sullen teenagers texting and listening to music with their noise canceling earphones and not giving one rat's ass about why my math up there was wrong, nor what the right way is to express my info.
P.P.P.S In case you missed it, the word for the day is ASS.