Randomness at it's finest.

I don't do mornings. Not to be dramatic, but I pretty much hate them with all of my heart and soul. I remember on our honeymoon, a beautiful cruise to Mexico, the hubs would wake up every single gosh dang morning by 7:00. Little did I know this was my first peek into the life I now live, where when we are either on vacation or it's our day off, the hubs wakes up at 7:00. Not only does he wake up early, but he wakes up annoyingly chipper and all, good morning sunshine! And sometimes he even leans over to tickle me or something equally preposterous like that. And one hundred percent of the time I am *THIS CLOSE* to punching him in the face. I mean come on, I would never hit someone but...if I did, it would be when the hubs uses tickling to wake me up at 7:00 in the morning.

Anyway, so you get the point. I hate mornings. I do, however, need mornings. Between being a full-time mama and a part-time office manager, finding time for working out at the gym and running outside, being a good wifey (or sometimes, just a regular old pain in the A wife)...well, I just don't get much me time. I'm in the process of writing a book right now, and the thing about writing is: I love it. The time I get to write is like having time to breathe, and it sort of makes me who I am. So I need it. And after fighting to the death with the idea that I might need to consider getting up super early in the mornings if I want to have more time to write, well I've decided to give in. Because it's the only way.

To make a long story short-wait, I've already ruined that, doh-I found this article and I'm hoping it works wonders on me. Between caffeine headaches and caffeine crashes, I can't do the coffee scene, at least not everyday. So everybody wish me luck on my quest to have "me writing time" before the sun (and babes) wake up!

And to sum up my Monday so far, if you're into the TMI stuff, I've got a good one for you. (Look away if you must!) This morning I had an annual appointment with my lady doctor for a (looks side to side, leans in and whispers), pap smear. It was the usual uncomfortable appointment, kind of comparable to the dentist in that you sort of dread it but you don't have a choice. But yet not comparable, because I go to the dentist once every ten years and I'm just fine. And also not comparable because, ew. Anyway, when I walk out of the doctors office after a P.S. (is that a valid abbreviation? Am I being very immature by not wanting to say it again?) I sort of feel like I'm doing the walk of shame. Like, when I walk out of the exit door back into the full waiting room of husbands and girls and kids, every eye is on me and every single person in there is like, I know what you did last summer, that sort of thing. And if I was a dog I would be scooting out those doors with my tail between my legs, like I just peed on the carpet. So my question is, WHY? Being a woman is silly.

And speaking of pap smears, I've been thinking that working for jetblue might be a great idea. Because don't you get free flights? Duh. Why didn't I think of this before?? (Just in case I have to explain that to someone, it has nothing to do with paps and I was just being funny.)

And if this post were a countdown: less than one month until our three year wedding anniversary, less than two months until our trip to Vegas, and less than however-many-days-it-takes-for-the-ground-to-dry until we get sprinklers and grass. Which, that last one is doozy and the only way I could be more anxious about it is if I were my husband.

HAPPY MONDAY. Or, not so happy Monday, but at least it's halfway over, right?