I know, amazingly creative title huh?

I sit here on a Sunday afternoon dabbling. Dabbling in work (budgets), dabbling in reading (trashy romance novel), having an exceptionally deep text conversation that Princess Bride is INDEED a WONDERFUL MOVIE, and slightly pouting because I’m not where I want to be.

That brings me to the topic of this brief, albeit thoughtful blog post.

I was supposed to head to the Mitten this week. Due to poor planning and a lack of desire to overextend my entirely stressed financial situation, I took the grownup route and didn’t go. Meanwhile, my best friend is there having a blast with her patient husband. I kinda feel like I am there with her- she’s been calling, texting and sending enough pics that it soothes my petulant heart.

A few days ago, I was kvelling about the fact that I wasn’t where I should be this week. Hmmm.

Actually, scratch that. I think I was supposed to be here this week. I’ve had a lovely, and very different 4th of July. I’ve laughed, I’ve drank copious amounts of wine and watched some great movies. I introduced someone to the sinful joy that is Chuys Jalapeno Ranch. I’ve drank mimosas on my patio. I’ve watched Weezie turn into a total whore for attention. I’ve kept my flowers alive into July. That in itself is a MAJOR accomplishment. I organized my office and have walked 15 miles this week. Yep, 15. Next week I’m shooting for 25.

Sidenote, I’m holding onto the crazy belief that walking every day is going to snap my thighs back to better places. You know, firmer, less old ladyish. If that doesn’t work, I’ll just walk around in the dark.


My life, like usual, didn’t go quite as planned, but I think I’m ok with it.

So, there you have it. My thoughts. My ramblings. Me.