It's 1:30am, and yours truly, can once again, not sleep. I've given up caffeine, I'm trying to be a more mellow person (trying being the operative word) but this *&^& insomnia is still plaguing me. Want to know what I'm doing?
I'm addicted to Dido's song "Christmas Day." Forget that we're well into January. I love me some Dido holiday angst.
I'm totally blown away that Obama has surged past Clinton in the New Hampshire polls. If you haven't read his "Audacity of Hope" you totally should. Right after you read "Eat Pray Love."
I spent 2 hours outside, in 80 degree weather, washing my car with my kid today. There were suds, grease, giggles and horribly unidentifiable crumbs.
Then, we cleaned out the garage, in homage of "big trash day" tomorrow- and found (count em!) SIX dead Texas tree roaches, laying flat on their backs, awaiting my dustpan. Woohoo exterminator!
I just can't figure out how 3 pilates sessions have not reduced my pot belly into a six pack. How many "hundreds" does a girl gotta do to see me some results?
Despite what everyone else said, I enjoyed the movie "Catch and Release." I'm worried I'm turning into a stereotype of myself. This should continue when Annie starts playing soccer in 2 weeks. I will proudly drive up in my Honda minivan, wearing gap jeans, clutching my Starbucks-nonfat-decaf-nofoam-sugarfree-vanilla-latte and dying a little on the inside. I will miss the Saturday mornings spent in our jammies.
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