Go to Costco on a Sunday. I know better, I really do, but…what was I thinking? Insane with a huge helping of OMGREALLY?
Play two church services the morning of the Spring Forward! side of Daylight Savings. At the tail end of a cold. The day after a St. Patrick’s Day party, where we toasted the party with ohmyGodfreakinghuge shots of Irish Cream. And I happily partook of the fermented grape juice because we walked there. When it’s gloomy and cloudy. Hell’s bells, I want a nap.
Blind myself with the early morning sun (truly, it was BRIGHT this morning, then quickly went south) as I’m turning out of my subdivision. And realize I had to getthehelloverQUICKLY, for there was a runner on the shoulder, much too close for my comfort and blinking the sun blindness out of my eyes as I drove wasn’t an option. Yeah, no ordinary runner, that. Just the current Olympic gold-medalist in women’s marathon. Woke me right up.
Agree to both boys attending a birthday part together, where they’ll jump like maniacs in a warehouse of trampolines, then get fed pizza and cake and ice cream and then come home and crash from exhaustion and Spring Forward! and sugar crash. No…wait…scratch that. As God as my witness, they can do that every weekend!