i’m willing to fucking move the fuck on and if the fucking planet will just give over with the warm weather i’ll be willing to forgive and forfuckingget.

i’m also willing to have california (and places of a similar or even BETTER warmness factor) to share the damned wealth and let us have better winters while they maybe lose a degree or two of warmth in january and february. don’t worry, you fuckers don’t have to have snow or minus fifty KABLLION but dammitall, we don’t want that shit either.

so. mother nature and california, GIVE OVER ALREADY. motherfuckers.

Dan and I are doing a March month long fitness push. For me it’s to lose the last ten pounds which are propbably more like five pounds and a shifting about of what’s there. For Dan it’s to get back the gains he had before the hernia hit.

Today I did the following:

1 pilates
2 abs butts and thighs fitness class with friends
3 running after said class with friends

Tomorrow I will

1 lift weights

I do alright with the exercise but I could afford to adjust the eating slightly. That will get easier as soon as the windchill warnings ease up. We’re expecting -44 for the morning. I will be eating potatoes with cheese sauce and Doritos for breakfast. With a Smirnoff Ice chaser. To, you know, get me through the day.

It’s funny, but applicable-

I have a rock garden. Last week three of them died.

Richard Diran

Every day Dan and I meet in the loft (an open concept room on the second floor of our home) after I have taken Jacob to school and given Madison something to do. I eat breakfast, he drinks coffee and we visit. Dan and I like to spend time together chatting and planning. We can get quite wrapped up in it and before you know it, we’re looking at half the morning gone by and not much done besides living the life of Riley.

It’s a good life but as we are not independently wealthy or surrounded by a staff of servants who will take care of our general life needs, it is not an appropriate way for grown people to behave.

Basically, in the rock garden of our lives, three of them have died while we’ve been sipping tea with our pinkies in the air*.

*Dan will have you know that he has never actually sipped tea and can see no plausible justification for any man to have his pinkie in the air. Not even if it were broken and requiring a cast of some description. A man would carry on with broken pinkie finger rather than have it outstretched in an effeminate way.

Thankfully, the rocks dying in our rock garden are not of the human variety. We have not, in our leisure bent lifestyle, forgotten to feed the children or pick them up from school. Wouldn’t that be a sad story.

Oh dear, what am I forgetting?

I can’t think of anything.

More tea, then?

Why, yes, thank you so much.

If only we did not enjoy one another so much. If only I could not stand the sight of him. If only he considered me that last person on earth with whom he would enjoy a liesurely sit down at the start of every day.

Alas.

Yet the time has come to get serious. No more fooling around. Some of us have things to do and do them we must. Not the least of which, I’ve committed to posting every day in the month of march. How am I gonna get that done if all I do is hang out with that guy?

Sacrifices need to be made. I am man enough to make them.

With whom do you long to have a leisurely tea-sipping sit down? And it is perfectly acceptable if the answer to that question is: myself.

In looking for a witty quote on petience and parenting I came across this gem

everybody is somebody else’s weirdo

and thought, yes. We’ve all got a freak in our lives. Maybe several. I’ve got one for sure and others who are on that fine line between normal and its polar opposite. One misguided step and it’s headlong into crazytown.

But have you ever wondered – have you ever given thought to the idea that – maybe you are somebody else’s weirdo? That person they see coming and wish they had time to escape? Are there people who discuss your oddities over coffee by way of trying, in futility, to understand what makes you tick?

Moreover, do you know for whom it is that you qualify as weird? Are they right?

~ ~ ~

I was looking for quotes on patience because I am in need of more. Jacob is playing in the kitchen and while he is in no way being bad he is doing that thing boys do. He is playing with sound effects. Weaponry and spacecrafts currently attempt to drive me utterly insane. It will be seconds before I run from the house, ears bleeding, eyes streaming with tears. Can’t he go play dollies with his lovely quiet sister?

Who is not usually this quiet, don’t you worry. Her usual thing is reading books ALOUD LOUD LOUD or singing facsinating little songs while you’re trying to catch what Anderson Copper just said about the aliens attacking the place where you live.

Dan, did he just say aliens are attacking?

What?

Aliens?

What? I can’t hear you. Someone is singing a lovely little song…

ALIENS!

No thank you, I had some this morning.

WHAT?!?

~ ~ ~

If you cannot find me later it is maybe because I fell down and am now burried in the pile of laundry that has taken over my home. Which must be what Anderson Cooper was trying to say. Not aliens. Laundry. They don’t sound the same but somehow I misheard.