Time Spent

Hi Roccie! This post is for you. Well, to satisfy you and your unquenchable thirst for reading material ;) Kidding. You'd dehydrate if you relied on my blog. Good Lord woman, go get a glass of water. Or go to K's blog. I dont know how she does it, but there's always a post. PS - I tear up every time I go to the mailbox thinking there might be a CD from IL. But alas…….

This blog is my baby and the bane of my existence at times. I love it. It offers me an outlet and a voice, and yet, I feel as though even with a million and one blog posts in my head, time eludes me.

My normal day consists of waking up at 4am, getting ready to work out, cursing myself in my head to make myself go. And if you think that that's just a cute commentary, it's not. I'm serious. I've sat on the edge of my bed for ten minutes at time with the following conversation going through my brain:

Me: "Shit. I could sleep another hour"
Brain: "Get the fuck out of bed. You already have your workout clothes on. This is why you sleep in them and spend so much time at night getting ready, so you can just get up and GO"
Me: But I went yesterday."
Brain: "You know you're an asshole when you dont work out enough"
Me: "Fuck I'm tired"
Brain: "You know you'll feel better, and there's no excuse today, you actually slept eight hours, now get the fuck out of bed"
Me: "I can go tomorrow"
Brain: "If you dont get out of bed and go get in the car I'm going to stroke on your this instance"
Me: "Ok jerk, I'm going"

Then, going straight to work while shoving breakfast in my mouth after the workout. Working until 4:15pm. Racing through traffic on the 80 (which in the Bay area is a nightmare and almost always involves me getting illegally into the carpool lane. Hey, save your judgement) to get to Ad's pre-school in time to pick her up (I have to be there by 5:30). Grabbing her, getting home, making her dinner, spending five minutes with her before her 6-6:15 pm bedtime (if you dont get her down by then, you can forget sleep for the night).

Then racing to get food cooked, house picked up, dog taken out and fed (sorry Tess, you're very patient at times), my lunch packed (which if you know me, is way more complicated then a pbnj and a piece of fruit), packing my workout bag and work clothes for the next day, showering, sometimes a bathroom break and almost always going for a target 'in bed' time of no later then 8:30 pm. This is because my workouts require a pretty strict eight hours of sleep.

For some reason this week, I got a little pep in my step, and was able to do all of this in a new record time. I had a night where I was actually in bed by 7pm. This was of course by removing the option of the bathroom break, forgetting to take out the dog and eating my lunch in bed and hoping I'd be able to store it for the next day. Once I was in bed, I realized I had to pee, so I got up to go. As I was coming back out of the bathroom I ran into the dog who was standing on her hind legs with her leash in her mouth and a look in her eye that sang "Do the. Potty Dance." (that's for the mommys out there who've seen the Potty Dance commercial from Huggies a million times. That fucking tune just wont go away).

So, I take the dog out, come in and realize that I also didnt eat dinner. So I throw something together which is eaten promptly at the kitchen counter, mess cleaned up and dishwasher turned on. I head back to bed realizing that I need to brush and floss. Not in that order. So, I detour to the bathroom again, floss, brush and head back to bed. Now, it's 8:30 and I decide that 'asleep' time, will hopefully be 9pm.

So. I love my blog, and constantly dedicate myself to being better about tending to it, but fail miserably each time. I'm ok with that, because as long as there is an SOS in my life, I know someone will always be there to guilt, I mean, motivate me into keeping it alive. ;)