There's no theme and you don't have to consider this a real post.
1. I'm considering a 10K (I'm also considering a 10G, but I blame Breaking Bad). Not really. But a great friend (who is short, but could kick your a$$ because she works out with more zeal than Richard Simmons but don't worry she's not kooky or annoying) is trying to convince me that this would somehow be good for me and that I might enjoy it. Right. Please comment why this is a worse idea than me staying up till 2:00 watching Breaking Bad when I have to get up at 5:00 and work.
2. Said friend lent (not the one where you give something up) me a doo-hickey that you attach to your waist (attractively?) and it carries two water bottles. Why do I need this? Because it's April (check your calendars) in South Texas and I'm in pre-menopause (whatever that is) so that equals hot and thirsty, y'all. So, why did this even make the quickie list? Because it's dorky and more than vaguely reminiscent of the notorious fanny pack. I know every like "serious" runner does it, but I can't shake the dork factor. Would I rather die from heat exhaustion? I'm still thinking about it.
3. Will you guys still like me if I am the only person in the free world that doesn't care for Breaking Bad? Here's the thing. I'm used to House of Cards, Orange is the New Black, and The Killing. Breaking Bad is s-l-o-w. Like a turtle. Now, I've written a small amount about hubby but something you might not know about him is that he's a "multi-tasker." When we watch Netflix he plays a game on his phone, checks his laptop for emails, shares gourmet popcorn with Bandit, and explains difficult episode material to me. "How does he do this???" you ask. Simple answer? He's a guiness. Well, I could never do that. I have a one track mind. (Insert snicker.) BUT, with Breaking Bad I can. Last night while watching I did all my paperwork, emailed two customers, and did some actual work. And this was well past 10:00 p.m. The hell??? (I'm giving it two more episodes and then I'm calling it quits.) No haters, please?
4. Captcha (Completely Automated Public Turing test to tell Computers and Humans Apart) mocks me. As you know, my eyes are aging at an accelerated rate. Hubby calls me (affectionately?), "old eyes." So every time I have to "prove I'm not a robot" I get it wrong. It's become this battle between Captcha and me. I imagine him as a real person sitting behind a laptop somewhere commenting under his breath as I type. "She is a robot." "What a moron!" "Really? She's either blind or she's not human." Then it's like Captcha takes pity on me kinda (after I get like five of them wrong) and he's all, "Ok, Ms. Dayinthelife. How about this, 'U R 2 S tpD.'" At which point I'm like, "THANK YOU! I can do this!"
5. This is the funniest thing I've read all month. In fact, read this gal's blog (but don't stop reading mine). She is beyond hysterical and pretty much delivers the truth in a highly entertaining package. I'm going to a baby shower today and I'm considering printing off this post, wrapping it up in fancy paper, and attaching a card that says, "You'll thank me later." As much as I love this post, it has dashed all of my dreams of ever writing a parenting book. Because absolutely nothing could compare to this advice.