Blah-g, Blah-g, Blah-g

Written by: Andrea Angileri

Sometimes life is full of pretty difficult choices.  Every Sunday in our house it is, “Who will take our oldest son to dance?” My husband and I like to go or not for several reasons.  First of all, it is a 3 hour window of time outside of the house.   The parent who stays home will be home with the other 3 children.  For me, it is a chance to run some errands and have a blogging window, I like to catch the last bit of dance class because it is very entertaining (more on awesome hip hop son in future posts).  So, we take turns.  This Sunday it is my turn, next  Sunday is SuperBowl Sunday.   Since my husband has to give some random promotional football helmet out at a bar (invented excuse?), I’m sure I’ll take the other three kids some child centered place where we will create warm fuzzy memories.

“What are you going to do out there…Blog?”.  He doesn’t realize it, but he says it with the same vigor as an older sibling saying, “You’re not gonna CRY are you?” to a younger sibling.  Not much more of a cheerleader would be my 12 year old who says, “You have a blog?…What… do 7 people like it?”  I can laugh at them because I know that I have made them smile and laugh at some random thing…and besides the drugs help ease the pain.

Because my diet yesterday consisted of coffee, baby portion of beef stew, extreme amounts of pizza, cinnamon bread sticks, Sierra Mist, popcorn, and Skittles I feel a little physically sluggish today.  That and the 6 hours of sleep I got because I stayed up until 1:30 a.m. to watch ‘Ted’ (Worth it), made me contemplate a quick visit at the gym after the oil change, and before the ‘blog’ session.  See the ‘Skinny on the Skinny’ post for more insight on my ‘gym views’.

Going to the gym is a bit of a drag when you forget your headphones….it’s worse when there is contemplated silence.  I can hear the guy ‘Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh’ breathing nearby, the clang of the weights, my own non-blog worthy thoughts, the temptation to say ‘Sorry’ because I forgot to wipe off the machine I just left…but really my hands are ice cold, I didn’t sweat, and there is hand sanitizer on the counter you freaks.   I was never so thankful  to hear Prince’s ‘Kiss’ blaring in my life.  After my strenuous 15 minute session, I look at the clock.  I have an hour and a half left of ‘free time’.   I won’t make the 11:30 church service, but just as well.  I have on sweats, hair pulled back, no make-up, I know that God won’t care, but the parishioners might mistake me as a hobo and give me canned goods and money….which really wouldn’t be so bad (more on hobos and my complete apathy for germs in “36 and Trying to Rock Out the Brown Skates to ‘Party Rock’).

Left with an hour to blog I go to Starbuck’s.  With my hobo get-up they probably think I can’t afford to drink/eat here….they are correct.  I pick my usual spot with my usual protein box(over priced fruit never tasted so good), latte, and water.  The protein box is my form of yesterday’s detox.  Besides the mini soup portion, the rest of the food conjures images of Jamie Lee Curtis chasing me around flinging Activia from her spoon at me.   Oh wait…I see somebody that if I didn’t acknowledge I would mentally torture myself about it later….wardrobe check…hobo look…sounds about right.  Signing off….