It's been almost a week since my day at the spa and I still really, really want to write a post about my experience. Unfortunately, I've had a unusual week packed with tons of other bloggable material and have no idea when I'll get to share any of it at length.
Such as today. I waited 15 minute for the handicap fitting room at Ross to open up so I could fit my big-ass stroller inside the stall and not have to get dressed half in the hallway so nobody would steal my baby. After the eternity passed, I expected to see an old lady open the door or even another mom whom I could exchange the "yeah, I know" head nod and cram my travel system through the door. Not even close! It was a perfectly bipedal adult, the size of my middle finger...of which I wanted to show off to her so badly.
There were 7 empty dressing rooms of an appropriate size, but Miss Petite Thing had brought in probably 20 items and, I guess, wanted it to feel like a walk-in closet. Who knows? She could have taken a nap in there for the amount of time I was stuck waiting, shoved into the mirror corner. And then I got stuck in 1 of my 2 dresses I wanted to try on! Because, apparently, I have a size 10 ass and size 18 boobs.
There's also been late nights with both kids, followed by a vomiting preschooler who, later in the same day, could have finished a marathon before the end of a Robot Chicken sketch. Obviously I have a lot of lovely stories that I am excited to share, but such stories keep me from posting. Vicious cycle, folks.
In the midst of such, I've actually gotten some sincere suggestions that I write a book based on all my chaotic happenings. I have to confess that the idea has landed on my brain a few times, but this pattern of disarray makes it pretty unlikely unless I find some serious time to myself--which is partly why I have decided to rejoin the ranks of the Naked Grannies and rejoin Megagym.
Though the most appealing aspect of rejoining is probably just being able to shower and throw some makeup on in a quiet environment, even if the old ladies like to walk around in le buff. I know that's totally not real French. But "le nu" probably wouldn't make sense if you didn't already know real French, so...le suck it. Also not real French. Regardless, I'm hoping to spend some time post workout working on more entries and maybe even compiling a stack of crap to photocopy and send to you guys as a "book." Or send to a publisher, whatever. Oh, and I created a facebook page. "Like" me, would ya?
But my dinner is burning and this has already taken me about 4 hours long to write this than I had hoped. So I'm going to go salvage my pasta.
Today's subject line quote is from Amadeus (1984).
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