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Who Am I Talking To Again?

I think I might be turning into my grandmother…no, I’m not completely gray, and I don’t fall asleep with a cigarette in my mouth while crocheting (sad but true – and no, that’s not how she died, thankfully).  But I have 2 children and 1 dog, and there was not a single time today that I said the right name the first time. 

“Kahlua! Aidan! Dammit, Sean!”  It got even worse when Aidan helpfully reminded me who I was trying to yell at.  “Aidan! (dammit.) Sean! (shit.) (Kahlua, Mom. Thanks baby.) KAHLUA!”  And then there was the time I didn’t know what word I wanted…after I went through all three names and realized I was speaking to Sean (or trying to), then I had a multiple choice list of what we were doing: It’s lunch time, no, crap, dinner, dangit! What word do I want? (Naptime, Mom. Thanks Aidan). It’s naptime, Sean.  Sean, right?  Yeah, that’s the one.”


I’ve been out of sorts for two days.  No real reason.  Just got stuck in my head and couldn’t get out.  Which didn’t exactly help my cognitive skills.  Or at least that’s the excuse I’m going with today.

I thought about blogging it out, but I really didn’t want more word vomit…especially not after such a good Saturday.  I considered just being lazy tonight and curling up with my book.  But after nibbling on yummy dark chocolate brownies most of the day that didn’t seem like a good idea.  So, I turned my lover into my therapist and hit the treadmill for an hour.  The BEP station on Pandora is amazing and by the end, I was out of my head (a little) and feeling strong and lean…well, mentally strong and lean.

If I keep using the treadmill as therapy, the physical strength and leanness may come sooner than I anticipated…

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