I had a wonderful time in Birmingham this past weekend. I love my home church. Thank you, dear church family, for such a lovely weekend. And Quinn appreciates the Quinn Tax, by the way. We'll be there again. Soon. With Quinn.
The apple cider vinegar has been dutifully taken (along with the entire glass of water so as not to gag). I have attributed all good things happening lately with my body to drinking apple cider vinegar. It's the winner (dingding!). I'm going on two weeks with no eczema now. I am now able to wear wedding rings.
The dishwasher has been loaded, but it is not full, so I can load breakfast dishes and start the dishwasher before I leave to go to work. Yesssss. Small joys.
My Google Reader says "no unread items". Which makes me happy. In a neurotic, obsessive way.
I am slightly panicking over the dirty laundry on the kitchen floor. I DON'T LIKE DIRTY LAUNDRY. Ever. My children were playing in it earlier. Naked.
My goal is to go bed at 8:30pm. It is not lofty. And I'm giddy over the prospect.
It is very cold here tonight (well, maybe not for you Yankees), but the temperature is 28 degrees and I've officially reached the "my-hands-and-feet-will-not-be-warm-again-until-May" point. I like to stick my hands and feet on Quinn. He does not appreciate it, even though I call it "loving" him.
This morning I ran 5 miles in under 40 degree weather. In shorts. Because I'm lacking common sense, apparently. In defense of my idiocy, I thought it was warmer than that outside, and if I get too hot, I can't run as far. So, I ran, did well, came back to my house, and my legs promptly broke out in hives. Interesting. Uncomfortable. Lesson learned? Probably not. Didn't you read the part where I ran well?
Today we had a Thanksgiving potluck at school. I've been looking forward to it for several days. Throw a whole bunch of Southern Women together and bring food? I'll be there. With triple chocolate bundt cake (my signature piece, thank you very much). I actually don't remember much of what I ate (except for DEE-licious Pecan Pie) because the chubby girl who resides in my brain (you could call it schizophrenia, but I prefer to call her "the alternate") took over my body and ate whatever she could get her hands on. I really only remember seeing the pecan pie. I think I had apple cider. Not vinegar. I ate broccoli for supper (with maybe a 5minute "lecture" with the children on superfoods and eating things that are good for you). And I only remember slivering the remnants of chocolate cake for two solid hours this afternoon. Curses.
I hear PBS on, which means my husband is done with school work for the night. I'm off to torture him with my iceblocks, also known as, my hands and feet.