Tuesday, February 16, 2010



I am having a hard time making it downstairs to the treadmill.  It’s not the distance in feet or the stairs that are making it difficult to get to the treadmill either.  I still handle stairs alright at this age, it’s everything else.  Like the cute little bugger to the side there and his little siblings. 

Today Adobe Photoshop Lightroom arrived in the mail and I am just itching to tear into it.  I had Lightroom before I lost it in the fire when the old Toshiba died last summer but this version was shipped to me directly from Adobe if you catch my drift.  Just another thing to keep me off target and away from the basement.

My hair is still falling out but I’m feeling a little better about it.  First, I talked to a girlfriend who had a baby three weeks after me and she said that her hair is falling out in fistfuls too.  Secondly, I went in for some blood work two weeks ago to have some things checked like my blood count, testosterone and thyroid.  My doctor called me today to tell me that everything looks ‘quite good’ and I appear to be quite healthy.  Even my PCOS seems to be in remission.  I’ve heard having a baby or babies can do that to you.  And lastly, my dear old husband is going bald and I still love him so I’m hoping that if I am indeed going bald he will at least still love me and perhaps even hold  my hand and kiss  me gently when we go wig shopping.

That is if he doesn’t run away with Twittergirl anytime soon. 

Do you ever have those dreams where your significant other runs off with a nameless faceless beauty? I was lucky enough to have one of those dreams just the other day.  I can’t recall much of the dream but boy did I wake up angry.  Unfortunately, Todd was still home and I was feeling like I had slept on a board and my mood was perhaps showing that when I told him about his ruthlessness in my dream.  He just looked at me and smiled, “You’re angry with me aren’t you?”

Well, wouldn’t you be if your husband brought Twittergirl home to live with you?  Twittergirl, the nerve of some people and their usernames.  Imagine if I called myself Blogspotgirl or Flirkrgirl.  Wouldn’t that just annoy you?  Especially if I moved in with you and your mate.  You are feeling me on this one, right?

I’m thinking that perhaps I watch too much Big Love.

Or that I’ve been spending was too much time lately trying to be witty and catching in 140 characters or less.

Either way I haven’t been finding my way to the treadmill, that’s for sure.

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