Well, I seem to have mentally wandered away, despite a three-day weekend and all. Why does it already seem like March or April around here? Once again I'm completely behind on the lives of my flisters.
Olympics (it was all we could do to stay awake for the Opening Ceremonies!), Westminster Dog Show (I slept through Best of Show), more Olympics (hey, Apolo, we'll take it, even if it's a fluke), Percy Jackson and the Hunky Olympians (perving over young boys and a couple older ones for two hours), more Olympics (did the Chinese really make figure skating interesting again?), Fat Tuesday (I slept through the final four hours). Etc.
Hey, there's a theme here! If I'm sleeping so much, why am I sleep deprived?
We decided to give up giving anything up for Lent this year. Frankly I just couldn't think of anything. I don't cuss much anymore (I can count on toes and fingers the number of times I've used the 'F' word in six months and I never say "Jesus" now, even in moments of passion . . . fiction doesn't count), I don't really eat sweets (my favorite thing to give up), I refuse to give up alcohol, which I rarely indulge in anyway, and my last-minute decision to give up Zuma just seemed downright dumb. So . . .
At least I ran three miles last night. This 'getting my body back' thing seems like it's taking an awfully long time. Of course, the shoulder will probably take three months more, so I might as well be patient.
Speaking of sleep, I better get to bed.