Absent Professor.

No, I'm not referring the absent minded professor. Just find it a little ironic- my professor who requires 100% attendance this semester has missed the first two classes. No worries though, he's managed to assign (through various assistants and such) about 12 pages of handouts for homework exercise and 2 take home Chemistry tests. We're now self teaching and self testing.

Besides, it's not like chemistry is a hard class where a student might benefit from actual student/teacher interaction and such... you know?

you did WHAT?

So, a few weeks ago we were on Hatteras Island with my Dad and brother, and all the wives and kids that go along with that... add in a few cousins, a first cousin once removed and a grandma, and it was a regular ole' family reunion. So, at the end of the week we were packing to move out of our rental cottage and I asked my father to come and collect my kids so I could finish cleaning.

It was a good idea. Really, my father and his wife are very responsible people. Completely trustworthy with my children. They'd never let them get burned, or sunburned, or lost or even hungry for more than 7 minutes, which is why the kids were treated to "second breakfast" as they arrived in his house.

So when once we'd checked out of the rental and turned in our keys, we trekked over to Dad's place. And sat down to our own second breakfast & more coffee. Which brings me to - a pet peeve of my stepmother is kids who don't finish their milk. Hey- I'm OK with that, I mean, after all, milk is good for kids and expensive. If you don't finish your milk, you don't get to be excused. As the table is being cleared, JBJ says, "Hey, B didn't finish her milk. I don't think she drank any at all!" to which I casually replied, "well, she's allergic to it, so she doesn't really like it that much."

pin drop silence.

"But," I add, "IT's obviously OK because she didn't drink it, so don't sweat giving it to her."

"Weeelllllll", Dad drawls sheepishly, "she had a cup of coffee, and we put milk in it to cool it off."

You gave coffee to my 2 year old? Really? Before a 5 hour car ride?

Yes. Yes he did.

next week? but wait!

Next week is actually NEXT WEEK. Yes, that sounds so obvious, but let me demonstrate my stupidity for you all.

Somehow I thought that all the events that were happening next week, were happening the week after next. So, this means that my school doesn't start in less than 2 weeks. It starts on Tuesday. (Or Monday if I end up with that pesky monday class afterall). This means that I don't have 10 days to buy my school books. I have 2 days to buy my school books. Heck, I hadn't even 100% decided which class I was going to add into my schedule this fall. It would seem that I don't have an extra week to ponder on this topic. OOh and this means that next week H is working 2 nights at HobbyJob and that I need a babysitter for my crew. How did I lose track of summer?

proof positive

I'm definitely headed into the realm of "running Junkie". I can prove it. I probably shouldn't prove it. But I can, none the less. The first line of proof is that on vacation at the OBX this past week I ran pretty much every day, even the days I ate red meat, drank 2 margaritas the night before and stayed up until midnight. And one of those runs was alone, in 88 degree heat, 90% humidity... for 14+ miles. This was not just, "i'm on vacation, I think I'll head out for a jog". No, this was the real deal.

So, the second bit of proof is today's run. It was, uh, blog worthy. T said so. So I will share, because it's blogworthy. But, for those of a sensitive nature, please do not read on.... oh, and I'm exhausted beyond belief- this will be short and rambling at the same time.

I ran today in new shoes. With the wrong socks. And my feet started hurting before mile 3 was even over. So, needless to say, when I got to mile 3 I adjusted my shoe laces. And then, I adjusted them again at mile 6. And by mile 8 I knew.... it was going to be ugly when I took off my shoes.... and I was right. Bloody socks. Yes, I ran until my socks were bloody. It's definitely a sign. Probably a sign of stupidity, or low IQ, but whatever...

So here I am, crippled with my bleeding feet, my lightly chafed arms, and I'm in obvious pain when I stagger into the house this morning after my 10 mile run and my Husband looks at me like I've been out smoking crack. He rolls his eyes and goes upstairs to shower/dress, etc... and B comes racing around the corner, and rams into my heels with her baby stroller. Um. I believe what i said was, "heckfireandshoot", though... I'm not sure, the stars blinding my vision were so bright I couldn't hear. (Yea, I said it). Anyway, after I regained concousness I went upstairs to shower... and nearly passed out as all the salt on my body washed over the slices on my heels. Seriously, I think I blacked out for a minute there as my entire body convulsed in agony.

So, there you have it: proof that I'm either a die hard, or stupid.