I started massage therapy classes. I don't want to go into the whys and wherefores, but suffice it to say I have good reasons. Unfortunately, they're very boring. The hands-on part is okay - you get a massage each class - but the anatomy and physiology class is going to kill me. I don't care about any of it. It consists of the instructor (who is actually pretty cute) reading the textbook and then getting tested. The highlight of the class is reading ahead waiting for the cute instructor to say 'vagina.' What? You all know I'm not right.
And we're still waiting to close on the next house. I'm afraid. I don't know what is going on and I don't want to talk about it.
So I'm just going to watch lions eat a antelope calf on Animal Planet. I think that will have a calming effect.
I'm a crack-ho lazy mom who vacillates between feelings of inadequacy and delusions of grandeur. I am not bothered by kid snot, garlic breath or Bob Dylan's voice. But pinch me with your toes and I will probably kill you.