Hello again, it's been a while since my last entry. Every single day I have really honestly intended to come down here and write, but for some reason or another I haven't. Lots of crazy stuff going on. And by 'crazy stuff' I don't mean my usual mid winter Idol watching, although, of course, there's that, too. What's with that new judge? Another Paula? Like we need another one of those. Anyways. But like, literally- crazy stuff. My stupid cat went and had kittens. And then my stupid dog went and ate one of them, which constituted a very major crisis around here- two seriously disgruntled kids and one mildly constipated dog. And then I've been painting Gage's room in preparation for my parents visit- which has now came and went- because we all know how fussy they are and I'd finally had it with their not-so-subtle remarks about WOW!! How nice it is that Lorrie and Trent have a proper guest room, and Gee, isn't that nice that at least one of their kids cares about them??
Anyways. Here I am. It seems that many of my good intentions just go out the window. Last week I went to Superstore and bought (among other things) a box of Maple flavoured oatmeal and a pint of blue berries which I swore I was going to eat every day for breakfast whether hungry or not. It sounded so good in theory. A bowl of oatmeal and a serving of berries, maybe on the top, maybe on the side. That part I would have to play by ear. Anyways. Well I ate the blueberries. On top of a pile of pancakes with a side of bacon. The oatmeal is still in the cupboard, unopened. I just look at the morning and I just can't do it. Usually I take my breakfast of Pepsi and chocolate chip brownies in bed while I watch the Early Show. That crack of the pepsi can just really gets my day started right and I just don't think a bowl of oats is going to cut it for me, not unless is served on top of bacon or waffles or pork chops, and even then I'd probably have to scrape most of the oatmeal off of it first.
So then I thought, well who cares. I'll just go for a little power walk in the morning and it'll be even better than eating a traditional breakfast. Because really. Breakfast Shmekfast. And I promised myself that NO MATTER WHAT I would go outside for a walk EVERY DAY. But then the first day it took me about half an hour to go out to the garage, get the stroller, bring it around front, dress up the baby, dress up Payton, get myself ready. Finally we were ready to go and then we walk for like five minutes and the baby is crying and Payton is laying in the ground doing snow angels refusing to go any further and I just can't deal with it, I'm trying to push the stroller through the snow but it's just not designed for it and I'm cursing and finally it's just like, you know what. Exercise Shmekersice. Because I bet if I put on one of those little pedometer dealy's I probably walk a fair amount anyways throughout the day- what with the laundry and the cooking and the cleaning, etc, etc. That's what I'm going to do. Get one of those pedometers and find out exactly how much exercise I'm getting already. Because why should I do more if I don't really need it- strictly speaking. Because they do say that there is such a thing as too much of a good thing, and I'm not going to argue with that. I've heard of people actually having heart attacks from over excercising. And besides. I'm already married, which I like to say to my husband means that I'm already a boughten cow so the milk no longer matters.
I don't even know if that makes any sense.
But whatever. You get my point.
And then I thought that I would try to write every day. Set a time, like from 2-4 when Alex is taking his nap, and get into the habit of it. But the problem is that that's when American Justice is on, so, it doesn't really work out.
So- other than that, nothing much really new with me.
I relapsed and bought Becel today. I totally didn't even mean to do it, either. I just walked past the butter aisle, and was like, oh ya, we need butter, and grabbed some and put it in the cart. So now I can relate to heroin addicts a bit better, less judgement. It's not as easy as you think. Old habits really do die hard, just like they say. I'm going to have to get more involved. Do some street outreach. Maybe some public speaking. Now that I know how the other half live, I just want to do something, you know. Get out there. Share my story. Take it to the people.
Also, I decided today when I was at Superstore-ya, basically I do go there everyday, in case that's what your thinking. I'm pretty much like "Hey, Rosa, Did you dye your hair? It looks so nice like that, here let me get a picture of it. I'll email it to Gladys. She's on vacation." when I go through the check outs. But that's not the point. I decided that I, yes little old ME, wanted to make a humanitarian effort and buy something for the Food Bank Box every time I go to Superstore. I always walk past it, feeling a little guilty as I heave my heavy bags of Cocoa Pops and Mint Oreos and other impulse buys. I'm going to start donating. Even if it's something little. Like a can of soup. Given the sheer AMOUNT of times I go there, I'm sure it could actually make a difference in the long run. I mean, that's how we change the world, right, little things. One Random Act of Kindness at a time, that's what God says. And by God I mean Morgan Freeman playing him in a movie with that guy from the Office about an Arc.
And I urge you to do the same thing, dear Reader, who ever you are, if indeed you do exist. We might make things hopefully a little bit better for someone else out there. I mean, I'm not exactly living high off the hog here, either. I had lasagna and garlic toast for supper, OK. A very plain, low budget meal. With salad. And little stuffed artichoke hearts with a bernaise sauce. And lobster bisque. A very middle class meal. OK I was joking about the artichokes. But as I said. I'm sure we could all spare a can of soup or two.
Me with my good intentions again.
We will see how it pans out.
And also, I was joking about the lobster bisque as well.