Yeah, yeah…. so the name of the post isn’t all that original. Someone had to start this blog out and as I’m the person who created it, I’m thinking that duty falls upon me.
If you’re interested in figuring what in the world is happening around here, I recommend visiting the About page and then clicking on each of the names. There are three writers up in here. Three writers. Three personalities. Three different regions of the United States. Three different ages. (Ugh, I am the oldest by so many years I wish to cry and/or vomit. On the other hand, I can obviously hang with the younger crowd since these bitches love me so much. Side Note: Don’t let the word bitches offend you. Side Note: If it does offend you, then you’re likely better off leaving now. For real.)
It’s Sunday. Sunday is always a bit of a love/hate thing for me. Weekends can get lonely around here. I live in the smallest town which has absolutely zero things to do. When I say small, I mean small… 2600 people small. We have a Subway and a park and that’s it. While I hate the work week (something about HAVING to get up at a specified time), I do love my job and so it isn’t all bad.
What I’m actually not looking forward to this upcoming Monday (you know, tomorrow) is I’m weighing myself. The batteries in my scale have been dead for longer than I even care to admit. I’ve gained weight since the accident and it’s time to face the music. I’ll face it tomorrow. I’ll face it and then start kicking my own butt back into shape. I could act all fierce here right now and say something like “Oh, it’s no big deal… I’ve lost it before and I’ll lose it again” but I know that is crap. I know that the moment I see my weight I’ll cry and I’ll feel like crap and I’ll want to have a break down. But yeah, I’ve done it once and I can do it again. Yadda yadda.