For the first time in ages, I can’t think of anything to talk about tonight. There are things going on, of course—there always are—but I get tired of griping about the boy getting in trouble or going on about how excited I am for some aspect of work stuff. I don’t particularly feel like talking about any of it right now. I wonder if this is what it feels like to have been in therapy for a long time and to be, well, bored of talking about yourself?
Guess I could mention that I pulled a muscle in my chest. Not quite a boob muscle—more northerly than that, but definitely chestular in location. Picking up the danged car seat with my horking-huge-almost-one-year-old-not-quite-a-baby-anymore-baby in it. It hurts so much that when I went to pull a soda can out of the drink holder of her stroller, which has a tiny amount of friction with which to hold cans in place, I had a shot of pain and lost my breath for a moment.
An empty soda can, y’all.
I suppose I could mention that, yes, indeed, we are going to Disney this year. I figure I’ll be bragging all over that eventually, though, so I’m not too inclined to blather on about it right now. Suffice it to say that we’re scheduled to stay in the Toy Story building again this time, which I think is going to be pretty awesome. Mmmmm, Disneylicious…..
I could…..
Yeah, I’m pretty much grabbing at straws right now. I’m tired, I feel like poo and I’m going to bed.
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