unconnected paragraphs

I am such a wuss. Yesterday I was all hardcore about how early I was going to get to practice this morning.

This morning I have cramps like a laundry wringer and an unhappy gastrointestinal system to go along with it, and all kinds of sore muscles. So it's nearly 9 am and I still haven't mustered the gumption to get my fat ass off the couch.

If you ever in your life have the opportunity to hear about or do a "twister crunch" just say no and then run very far away. That's all I have to say.
I can do about one.
We did like, thirty yesterday.
Ugh.


I wore a low-cut shirt last night to Mohawk Place. A teammate played my boobs like bongos. It was more amusing than you'd think.


The head ref, upon hearing about how Redfox's husband had laid out clothes for her and awoken her from a nap to ensure that she did not miss attending last night's party while he stayed home with the kid, said, "I need me one of those."
"A husband?" I asked.
"Yeah," he said. "That'd be damn handy. Nobody lays clothes out for me. Look at me!"


Oh, sure, weather. Be like that. It's now nearly 9 and you're snowing like a little mini blizzard right in my front yard. It's a Sunday morning, they probably don't have the plows out, it hardly snowed all night and wasn't really supposed to snow today. So the roads won't get cleared. And I've got to leave relatively soon.
Great! Now it's snowing harder!
Cut it out.
Grummmble.



I need more than one heating pad. I need, like, four. One for each knee, one for my belly in the uterus sort of area, and one for my back. But you know, I need one for my glues/hamstrings too.
I wonder if I could just swathe myself in an electric blanket and crank it up...


Plecosaurus is flipping out this morning. I'm a bit worried, but more worried that Chita's attentive watching of him will knock the tank over.
Oh well. Whatever else is going wrong in my life, at least I've had a few good hours of kitten-snuggles this weekend. This morning it occurred to me that I always complain she doesn't snuggle me, but then I'm never home for her to snuggle me anyway so it's really no wonder.
Christ it is white out there. Fuck off and die, snow. Come back tomorrow. Shit.
Ow.

useless today

I have to stop being useless all weekend every weekend. I got very little done yesterday-- slept late, worked out, ate, napped, then went out-- and almost nothing done today-- practice, meeting, then home, hung out, and then a ridiculous three-hour nap.
I have awful cramps and am horribly sore all over, but still.
I just don't ever want to do anything on the weekends.
I probably should start making to-do lists again, but I've never actually really obeyed my own to-do lists before.

I should get out of bed now, as I hear and smell Z making something for dinner, and I ought to help. But I'm having another bad cramp. (They've been coming in, like, waves kinda, moreso than usual, almost like the way I read about contractions being described. It's very unpleasant.)
I don't want to move. Ever.

Bleah.