August 17th. That was the date of my last post.
Is anyone even subscribed to this damned feed any more?
*Wiping off the cobwebs*
Who. The. HELL? Picked out this pattern? Oh, yeah. Me.
For the last year, I've been a mama who has been trying to take care of myself physically. When my doctor put me back on my insulin-controlling meds last year, I knew that I also had to start exercising. And run I did. I've logged quite a few miles and become intimately acquainted with a 4-mile bike trail that kicks my running rear end. I've also been lifting weights and Zumba-ing all over most of Woodstock. I'm not saying I'm at the gym hours upon hours every day, but just that 30 to 60 minutes each morning slays me.
Physically, I'm at the top of my game.
Mentally, I'm the equivalent of that dead toad Ty-man peeled off the driveway yesterday morning.
But, hey, my insulin is again my bitch.
(BTW, if this post makes no sense? It's because Ty-man turned on Thor. How is a girl like me supposed to write a sensible post when a boy like Chris Hemsworth is bulging all over my TV screen? *Sigh*)
I miss the old snarky, writing me. I'll drive the kids to school and think Oh! Oh! I've got to write this down. Or I'll be at the grocery store and I'm all DANG! My head is so FUNNEH! By the time I'm home, the funny has frittered away to nothing. I look out at my blogging friends and think, She's traveling the country, he's working on his stand-up comedy, he's collecting money for charity, she's educating the masses about being an American Muslim, he's helped create this awesome magazine and they're all writing.
And I'm here. Watching re-runs of Big Bang Theory and thinking about writing.
So, I'll write. I've got a book of writing prompts and I've got stupid things that I think are funny and if any of you are still out there, I'll write for you. If you're all gone, well, that's OK too. I'll write it anyway.
Reboot of my brain in 3... 2...