I have fallen off the wagon and I'm bumpin behind it holding one very frayed lead and trying to not spill my cocktail in the other.
Its a hard task, but somehow I apparently seem to be doing ok. When I attempt to make an easy change in my life I like to go full force. When I decide to work out, I don't just work out…I want to be Ms. Universe. When I pick a project, I never start small…I start huge then widdle it down one disappointing step after the next until my other half reality body checks me and says, "WTF? Lets just pay someone". Its the way I roll. Always has been. That is also why I do a lot of drag assin behind the metaphorical life wagon. It gets painful after a while.
After 3 good months of working out and feeling good, I made a vat of cookie dough for the kids, and I'm just going to be honest here, that cookie dough never even got close to the parchment paper. I washed it down with micro brew over the course of 5 days. End result? bad gas and tight underwear…It is what it is and I have admitted, its not pretty. You know what else is not pretty? Along with the tight underwear I have decided to embrace my inner hippy and stop shaving. I decided I can save a few bucks, a few minutes and reap the extra warmth of a pelt. I believe it may be adding to the tightness of my underwear. Its all just very very wrong. This morning I put on my undies and I looked down and thought to myself( thank god it was just me), "What are you thinking? This is something only a German would appreciate…you gotta shave." Reality has it…razors don't work on pelt. Try it.
Maybe I'm starting to look like these guys?
Its hot, right? In a funky hip German kind a way?
I don't know…
Are these normal 40+ female problems?
This is why I must not give up Liquor for Lent this year.
It's soothing the pain…
the pain of middle age doldrums.
write ya later.
gotta go try on my new pantaloons
And pants suit.