So, hey again. Remember how I said I would blog about my vacation? Well, this isn't it. Sorry. I just had a massively weird day filled with umpteen mishaps that I felt like sharing with the world. Really, how do this many things happen to one person in one freakin' day? Perhaps some of you have a theory as to why I'm such a magnet for freak accidents and behaviors...
Today started out busy. We were all slow-moving this morning, due to a whole 'nother series of catastrophes the night before: Dom went to poker night, I was coming down with a cold, both kids ended up staying up late, Michael threw a fit about sleeping in his room, and we all ended up going to sleep between 10-11. Regardless, we were supposed to be down the road by 9 this morning for a neighborhood "60 day weight loss challenge."
They promised to take my picture, weigh me, calculate my BMI, body fat percentage, and take measurements. Nowhere did it say ANYTHING about doing jumping jacks and situps until my stomach tried to escape out my ass and throat simultaneously. And yet, I started off my day with no breakfast and a trip back to junior high P.E. class. As if not being able to do 2 full situps in a row wasn't embarrassing enough (in the middle of a crowded room, by the way), once I finished the fitness test...I blacked out.
I was getting my measurements done when the nausea hit, and suddenly the scarecrow-esque, waif of a woman taking my measurements was laying me down on the floor and holding my feet in the air and about 10 other trainers were shoving almonds in my face.
But the good news is that my body fat percentage and BMI are actually in the healthy range for my age now--despite the fact that I gained about 15 lbs. since the summer. Apparently I live in a universe where gaining weight makes you not fat any more! That's because I'm old now. Yay for moving up a bracket on demographics! I've spent the last decade in the overweight to obese categories, so tonight I decided to celebrate by ordering a pizza and making cookies.
Oh, and just in case you were wondering...cookies taste like ass when you leave out vanilla and salt. I made a batch, baked about 8, and tried to fix the remaining batter by adding the missing ingredients AND MY HAND. Also, just in case you are ever curious, getting your hand caught between the prongs of an electric mixer won't break it. But it definitely hurts. Also, staring at the machine in disbelief will not magically imbue you with the Jedi mind powers to turn it off. That's what the switch is for.
So, seriously guys...Am I stupid now? Because this all sounds like stuff that happens to idiots. Also, my neighbors dog ran smack into Michael's knee today and bashed in it's front teeth. I can't even begin to make this shit up.
Today's subject line quote is
The Big Bang Theory
(2007 TV Series)
Episode: The Peanut Reaction (2008).
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