After being sidelined by one heck of an icky bout of strep throat, I feel like I am back to ninety five percent, give or take 5 percent. Either way, it's an A so I'll take it.
I started by suggesting I walk to school with my sons. They countered with a suggestion that they ride their skateboards. This meant taking a slight uphill turn followed by a steep decline that both sons took like rockstars, without pads and without fear. They didn't need any because I was scared enough for us all. As a result, I spent the first part of my day transforming gasping and praying into a form of athleticism.
I took the long way home and ended up with 4,710 steps on the old odometer before 8:30 AM. Sweet.
Next up. A little cleaning. My favorite! Anesthetized by a phone conversation with my friend, Tracy, I braved the upstairs bedrooms, the living room & dining room. Then knocked out a little laundry. I've been dumping it onto the bed to be folded later while I watch New Moon. Again. Anything to numb the pain since I can't drink.
Of course, I may have to drink if I plan on taking on the bathrooms. I'm just not sure I feel brave enough.
You see, for whatever reason, both of my sons can fearlessly hurl themselves down a hill rolling at least 20 miles an hour, but they can't seem to find the strength to actually pee inside the toilet bowl. I am truly mystified.
Once I finish this blog, I'll be cleaning my carpets. Apparently my bulldog Clemmie 'just won't go' outside for anyone but me. And here I thought she loved the outdoors. Sun in her face and all that.
Interesting.
I'm sure you can imagine what a full week of my daring to sleep has done to the floor.
Sometimes (like now) I wonder how it all ended up coming to this: me knee-deep in urine management. I mean, yeah, I always felt like I was destined to manage something -- boss someone around or be some sort of expert. But urine? Really?
If you know me, or even feel like you do, you should know that housework symbolizes all that is evil and wrong in the world -- or perhaps, all that is evil and wrong in an otherwise delightful lifestyle. I would like to demand the aid of my elves, my laundry fairies and (perhaps most of all) my kitchen gnomes at this time. Sadly, they are all otherwise engaged.
On the upside, all of this work is burning calories like you can't imagine so there is a silver lining on this cloud of doom.
Until next, I remain. Kimberlyn, goddess of urine-pierced carpets and urine-assaulted grout.
2 comments:
UGH!! Presumably, you can't drink because of the calories, which is why I'm wearing the biggest tire I've ever sported!! GROSS!! And though I always find your writing hysterical and entertaining, I'm not buying this pig-in-a-blanket billed as a pig roast- NO CLEANING FOR FITNESS AND NO GIVING UP DRINKS!! (Unless, of course, you are making good choices about your fitness, which you are and I'm not, but hey! It's too much work keeping my head on straight in the first place!!)
Love u!!
Yep, almost every drink I like is waaaaay too many calories. Plus, it's the middle of the day and some of us have to be ready to drive at a moments notice :o).
Further, some of us don't have the ability to be mortified with a "spare tire" whilst sporting a size 2 ass so I must do everything I can for fitness :o)!
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