Notes from the edge

With the kids in Arizona and The Old Goat working this weekend, I've a had a couple of evenings where the biggest decision I've made is what do I want to eat for dinner! Bliss!

Along with that, I've taken a moment to vacuum, clean my desk (carefully avoiding the tax packet from my accountant) and ponder life. I've taken the liberty of jotting down a few notes...

Dear Insomnia,

You've taken more out of me than I thought. If I'm not inadvertently falling asleep, struggling to stay awake or jolting to life at 2 in the morning, I'm dragging myself through each day without the energy to do much more than work and cook. You suck and I hate that you've made me a zombie. I'm elevating your alert system to orange level and calling in reinforcements. Expect a memo shortly.

Dear Asthma,

Kudos! It's almost April and if you make it through the remainder of March without taking a nose dive, it will be the first time since we started hanging out together (six years... 6... Six... SIX Flaming years ago!) that I haven't ended up on a dose of oral steroids in the spring. I realize that by saying this, I'm tempting the fates, but I don't care! I want you to know that I understand that I haven't "beaten" you (although I would get all UFC on your butt if I could)... but I'm just so grateful to you for giving me this time of functionality. I appreciate it. And I applaud your restraint. Thanks!

Dear Blog,

I'm very dissatisfied with you right now. You're rigid and unchanging. I haven't quite figured out what your problem is, but if I were you, I'd be getting my affairs in order... Cleaning out your desk...straightening your files... yada yada. Your fate rests in the hands of Insomnia (see above). Once I kick his ass, your next.

Dear Hair,

Yeah... you. This falling forward into my face crap is getting old. I realize you're too short for a pony tail, but the poking in the eye while I'm doing dishes (folding clothes, taking notes, trimming dog nails, eating)? So not okay. It's your choice, but if you don't mellow the freak out, I think you should resign yourself to some very ugly hair clips. Yeah. Ugly. The ugliest ones I can find. They may even have ice cream cones on them. People will point and laugh at you. I won't care.

And lastly....

Dear Butt...

Get ready. There's a 5K in August. You're going to be in it. I don't care whether you look good doing it or not... you're going to be in it. The only thing that could prevent it is Asthma and he appears to be on hiatus. *snicker* So don't get any ideas about wussing out. Leg... that goes for you too! I just paid off your surgeon... that means you belong to me now! Bwa ha ha!

And with that, I'm outta here. I may do taxes, I may go soak in the tub. I may play with my camera. For now, I believe I will go get another cup of coffee. I love you Juan Valdez!

Asthmagirl out!