I shouldn't joke too much, because I'm sure I've melted down over something as trivial as paper cups before. Yep, I'm sure I have, but I think I must have blocked it all out because I can't think of any examples at the moment. However, I do have a turkey meltdown every Thanksgiving because I've yet to duplicate my PERFECT turkey in 2002. It's never pretty. I place far too much pressure on myself to cook the perfect turkey and have all the side dishes done and still warm at the same time. Also, I once stomped on a bag of freshly made chocolate chip cookies, but I think that was because Craig made me mad and it was a better alternative to stomping on Craig. Have I mentioned I have a temper? My fuse is long, but when it blows, IT BLOWS.
Anyhoo, Craig and I had our weekly marathon training long run today; the first of many runs with miles in the double digits. The weather was gorgeous; the run was a little tough, but I survived. Craig barely broke a sweat! I discovered today, or rather I was reminded of something I already knew: Virginia's picturesque rolling hills are much lovelier when you're in your car, as opposed to when you're navigating them by foot. I've also realized that my favorite part of the whole long run day is the afternoon nap I've been taking on the living room floor. I scout out a sunny spot, close my eyes and suddenly, I'm dead to the world. I think I should have been born a cat instead of a person; only if I were a cat I would be conscientious enough to not lay my furry self on my owners fresh laundry.
In other news, I haven't any news. It's a holiday weekend; Craig has a 4-day weekend, but our plans are pretty simple. Soccer isn't on the schedule, but we are going to embrace a different sport and buy Caroline some new running shoes. After all, a girl on the run, needs some comfy kicks. I just received a $10 Kohl's gift card in the mail the other day, so we're going to try there first.
I think we may also check out a local produce stand-turned pumpkin patch to get a pumpkin or two. Their displays of gourds and vividily colored mums are just beautiful; I can't wait to take my camera out there. There is something just so warm comforting about the colors and scents of the harvest.
Other than that....who knows? Oh wait, I almost forgot, Craig and I are running in an 8k race that benefits the hospital where our neighbor works. It should be fun. And, as an added benefit, the race is less than half the distance of our run this morning, so it should be a cake walk. Hooray.
Anyway, enough about me. What are you up to this weekend? Any fun plans?
3 comments:
OMG-Seth really did lose it! I felt bad for him when there was no grapefruit juice on the cocktail challenge...but the paper cup hissy was over the top!
We were only good at Nall's for about a 1/2 hour, we did come home 1 pumpkin and 1 halloween lollipop happier, though.
Peanut butter. You had a major meltdown over peanut butter. Dad asked (utterly serious), "Is there something psychologically wrong with her? If she needs help, we'll take her to a counselor."
I told him, "There's nothing wrong with her. She's a girl."
"But she's crying over peanut butter."
"I told you. She's a girl."
Looking back, maybe we should've gotten you help back then!
:)
I'm working today (Saturday), covering two chili cook offs (cooks off?) and a family fitness fair. And I have to type up arrest reports if there's time.
But I don't have to be at my first assignment until 10, so at least I can hang around the house for a bit.
When you smashed the cookies I hope you used the crumbs to pour over ice cream!
Marcey--he's a NUT. "The red hots are for my mommy."
I think we might go to Nalls on Monday. Halloween lollipops are always a good deal.
Mom--I remember dad asking if I needed "help" but I do not remember the pb thing. Eh, I was 15, everything made me cry when I was 15. I think I got all cried out as a teenager because I never cry now. Sorry you have to work. But typing up police reports might be kind of fun. I don't remember what I did with the smashed cookies. That was a long time ago.
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