I honestly can’t remember the last time I was this glad for Friday. For starters, I’ve been doing my best to outrun a cold for the better part of a week and a half. Literally. And futilely. The cold caught up to me, and I’ve been barely functioning in any real capacity. Read: I’ve been doing a lot of unplanned stuff instead of stuff I should be doing. Procrastination is the New Manifesto.
Some weeks are like that.
Our menu plan this week went a little something like:
- Jet’s Pizza
- Jet’s Pizza
- Leftover Jet’s Pizza or Cereal
Of course, on the very day I suspected that I might be catching something, the boys and I met some friends at an apple orchard to pick a bushel of apples. Bushels of apples are strange things–they never seem like much until we get them home. Then I remember that a bushel is a big pile o’ apples. More than 50 pounds. Several hundred. Naturally, picking a bushel of apples meant:
- That I had to do something with all of those apples, no matter how I was feeling.
- I’ve been canning and cooking all things apple for the better part of a week.
- Peeling, coring, and chopping 12 pounds of apples in a sitting is a heck of a lot of work to yield only 4 quarts of homemade applesauce.
- My boys can eat 4 quarts of homemade applesauce in a week.
- You’ll be seeing some of this madness next week.
I thought that I could run the sick right out of me. I figured the Sweat It Out method would prevail. This produced a few interesting results:
- I truly believed that if I just kept my weekly mileage going I would not fully succumb to the yuck.
- I did feel better after running. For a few hours, anyway.
- Audiobooks are the only way to survive running on a treadmill. Music just doesn’t cut through the intense boredom of staring at the same wall for an extended period of time.
- Bacon Slayer didn’t think I was nuts. In fact he ran, too. Just for good measure. We are becoming That Couple.
- I think that I can now officially call myself A Runner because I *wanted* to run while feeling like crap. I blame Monica, Kat, Allison, and the rest of the Running Pack in the Sky for these developments.
Television has been interesting this week. By that, I mean that I’ve actually started to pay attention to what is on television this fall. The jury is still out on whether or not I should jump in this late in the game. What I do know is:
- As much as it pains me to say it, I’m already bored with Grey’s Anatomy. McDreamy is being kind of a jerk. Christina and Owen are nauseating, and McSteamy? He’s given up on his philandering ways in favor of gourmet cooking. Wait. I like that part.
- The new season of The Biggest Loser has started, and I had no idea. And now Anna Kornikova is a trainer on the show? Weird.
- Terra Nova is bizarre. They should fess up and call it Lost 2. Or
SwissSemi-Prehistoric Family RobinsonShannon. My biggest beef? (I’m really showing my Sci-Fi Geekdom, now…) The fact that a family travelling back through a rift in time 85 million years would automatically alter history. Does no one remember Quantum Leap? And where is JJ Abrams when I need him? Where is the new Alias?
- On the upside, there is American Hoggers on A&E. I never watch A&E. Ever. But for some reason my remote found American Hoggers, where I met the Campbell Family. The Campbell’s are doing their best to rid
the worldTexas of unruly wild hogs. Apparently wild hogs are a problem that are best dealt with with a golf cart, a few horses, and a pack of hunting dogs. As with all good train-wreck TV, I couldn’t look away. All I have to say is, Quality Reality Television is BACK, baby!
My boys have been killing me this week. I give you Exhibit A.
- I die. Every. Time. Sons #1 & #4 have been doing The Baby Burrito all week. Snuggling up and chatting with each other. Then the Baby gets a blanket and makes Buddy Burritos with his stuffed animals. Then I die all over again.
- Son #3 has been using his waking hours to sing. Continously. The kid has his own personal soundtrack going on. It’s adorable. Sorry I don’t have any video.
- Son #2 has taken a shine to a parkour-like dancing style. Tonight he was “break-dancing” to Dierkes Bentley. Which I wasn’t entirely sure was possible until I saw it with my own eyes. Again, no video, so you’ll have to trust me.
Since I appear to be letting all of the skeletons out of the closet tonight, I should probably tell you that I’m kind of behind on everything. And I do mean everything:
- I’m not too proud to tell you that I mopped the floor for the first time in, oh… let’s just say about 3 weeks. Three! That may not seem like a long time to some of you, but let me remind you that I live with 4 little mess-makers that spread sticky as if it were their full-time occupation. Which it kind of is. I’m also not to proud to tell you that I may have gagged a little when I saw what they baby was harboring under his booster seat in the dining room.
- I haven’t done laundry is 8 calendar days, which means that the boys may have to go commando tomorrow morning. As if they need an excuse.
- I caught up on my email last night after reading 174 new messages.
- I’m almost caught up on my blog reading–only 68 more posts to go.
- Don’t even get me started on the neglect of my checkbook. Let’s just say my wallet won’t close for all the debit card receipts I have yet to log.
The Raincheck for the Quickie is coming soon. In the interest of further procrastination tonight, I combined 3 interesting ingredients and made something that made me do a happy dance in my kitchen. Twice. Chocolate is involved.