FEELS LIKE A MONDAY TO ME
Don't get me wrong. I don't need another Monday. Really! I sort of dislike them. However, I have run around all day today thinking it was Monday. This will mess with my mind the rest of the week, but on the plus side, Friday will come that much faster and be that much more of a pleasant surprise when it does finally arrive. The down side, of course, is that the weekend will seem shorter, but the other plus side is that we'll only have that one week left of school ... and you see how this random mind works, right? All "snow ball down a hill" like ...
But this whole "thinking it's Monday when it's really not" deal ... this has just caused me to be even more random than normal, and for those of you who know me well, know that randomness is pretty much part of my DNA code. I reference the last sentence in the above paragraph for those that are slightly confused!
So, I made potato salad for a dinner thing I've got to go to this evening. It's a family recipe ... it's a Murray family favorite. The whole lot of us could sit down and devour an entire bowl of the stuff, it's that good. It's 80 degrees ... it's the day after Memorial Day ... it's officially summertime! So, I'm thinking that potato salad is the perfect thing to bring to this little shin-dig. Except that when I get it done, it doesn't look anything like mom's, and in case you are wondering, "looking like mom's," "tasting like mom's," "acting remotely like mom's," "resembles mom's in the slightest bit," these are all the litmus test of whether something is good or not. I immediately panic because my potato salad doesn't look anything like mom's. Great! It's going to taste like crap! Okay, so it might not have helped that I put boiling hot potatoes into the mixture, thus melting cottage cheese, if it's possible to do so ... and, at this point, my mother is rubbing her temples and trying to remember why she even attempted to show me how to cook. Patience ... that's what she's muttering under her breath as she reads this ... right now ... I swear that's what she's doing at this very moment.
So, that seems pretty appropriate since I'm still annoyed with this bum knee of mine. I was feeling pretty encouraged this morning because I didn't have any pain so maybe, just maybe, I didn't make an entire mess of Michael the PT's work when I fell down the stairs this past weekend. Then I got up from sitting mid-morning, and that old familiar pain started in again.
DANG IT!!!
Explain to me why we need knees again? Because maybe I could just get away with one ....
Today at recess, two of my colleagues were talking about men they dated this weekend, and I am standing there trying to figure out two things:
1.) At what point Angus* will stop jumping out of the swing even though I've yelled at him to stop more times than I can now count ...
2.) Where and how are they meeting these guys, because the last time I looked, the UPS guy wasn't dropping them off at my doorstep, and that's the only way I can think of to meet them because I'm not meeting them any other way ...
Which launches me into a startling realization, I am surrounded by children and old people! There's no in between.
You think I'm joking?
Case in point, today I went from a room full of 4th graders who are still picking at every open orifice in their bodies, and not only that, but pulling stuff from said orifice, to the post office. Surely, I, single girl, could meet a nice guy in the line at the post office.
Nope!
Old men! And by old, I mean, past their expiration date old ... way past ... and get this! They are also picking at any open orifice on their bodies and pulling stuff from them! To make matters worse, I realized that I walk like these old men! We are all standing in line at the post office with bad knees.
I've come to a certain conclusion.
At some point, I took a wrong turn in my life ...
That's the only way to explain it ...
But this whole "thinking it's Monday when it's really not" deal ... this has just caused me to be even more random than normal, and for those of you who know me well, know that randomness is pretty much part of my DNA code. I reference the last sentence in the above paragraph for those that are slightly confused!
So, I made potato salad for a dinner thing I've got to go to this evening. It's a family recipe ... it's a Murray family favorite. The whole lot of us could sit down and devour an entire bowl of the stuff, it's that good. It's 80 degrees ... it's the day after Memorial Day ... it's officially summertime! So, I'm thinking that potato salad is the perfect thing to bring to this little shin-dig. Except that when I get it done, it doesn't look anything like mom's, and in case you are wondering, "looking like mom's," "tasting like mom's," "acting remotely like mom's," "resembles mom's in the slightest bit," these are all the litmus test of whether something is good or not. I immediately panic because my potato salad doesn't look anything like mom's. Great! It's going to taste like crap! Okay, so it might not have helped that I put boiling hot potatoes into the mixture, thus melting cottage cheese, if it's possible to do so ... and, at this point, my mother is rubbing her temples and trying to remember why she even attempted to show me how to cook. Patience ... that's what she's muttering under her breath as she reads this ... right now ... I swear that's what she's doing at this very moment.
So, that seems pretty appropriate since I'm still annoyed with this bum knee of mine. I was feeling pretty encouraged this morning because I didn't have any pain so maybe, just maybe, I didn't make an entire mess of Michael the PT's work when I fell down the stairs this past weekend. Then I got up from sitting mid-morning, and that old familiar pain started in again.
DANG IT!!!
Explain to me why we need knees again? Because maybe I could just get away with one ....
Today at recess, two of my colleagues were talking about men they dated this weekend, and I am standing there trying to figure out two things:
1.) At what point Angus* will stop jumping out of the swing even though I've yelled at him to stop more times than I can now count ...
and
2.) Where and how are they meeting these guys, because the last time I looked, the UPS guy wasn't dropping them off at my doorstep, and that's the only way I can think of to meet them because I'm not meeting them any other way ...
Which launches me into a startling realization, I am surrounded by children and old people! There's no in between.
You think I'm joking?
Case in point, today I went from a room full of 4th graders who are still picking at every open orifice in their bodies, and not only that, but pulling stuff from said orifice, to the post office. Surely, I, single girl, could meet a nice guy in the line at the post office.
Nope!
Old men! And by old, I mean, past their expiration date old ... way past ... and get this! They are also picking at any open orifice on their bodies and pulling stuff from them! To make matters worse, I realized that I walk like these old men! We are all standing in line at the post office with bad knees.
I've come to a certain conclusion.
At some point, I took a wrong turn in my life ...
That's the only way to explain it ...
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