Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Sugar Make You Go - Go Do Random Stuff
Well I've done it again. My motor is revving and there is no stopping me now. Let me see. Let me count the sugary ways that somehow, randomly, don't know how it happened, got into my body.
Pies: Loads of them. From Thanksgiving forward, there are pies and cheesecakes. Pumpkin pie, pecan pie, apple pie, spinach pie, strawberry cheesecake, turtle cheesecake, all the way to New Years.
Cookies! Tons and tons of them. My mother in law who has been pretending she's been dying for the last six months, had her medication adjusted. She's in hospice now and her new nurse reconfigured her medication. At first she was afraid of hospice. But they assured her that hospice didn't mean they were going to put her down like they do an ailing dog, but to improve her quality of life. And they have! She feels more vibrant and can breath more easily. To prove it she made eight gigantic batches of eight different kinds of the most delicious cookies. But with whom can she share these mountain of cookies? Me. So there's that.
More cookies! The mother of a student of mine sent in a gigantic tray of homemade cookies and muffins, along with handfuls of chocolates. The centerpiece was two caramel apples, one covered in white chocolate chips and the other in dark. Do I have to eat them all?
Christmas Party for the kids at our school. All the wonderful parents brought treats, cookies, cupcakes, cookies, sweet tamales, cookies, twizzlers, and cookies.
Chocolates: Who gave me this ginormous bag of Ghirardelli Squares? Hell, who gave me this other bag of Ghirardelli squares? People stop it!
Birthday Cakes: Why does everyone in my family procreate in March? Ladies are you so cold that you pretend to forgive your husband, or pretend to be asleep, or suddenly your headache is cured, so you can grab some of that fiery furnace heat coming off your man, that you actually snuggle up to him? Ladies, that can only lead to one thing. Right? You know what I'm saying. Consequently December babies are dropping left and right around here!
I proclaim that March is a NO SEX month! Who's with me? Please family, I can't afford the birthdays and the baby Jesus' birthday too. No. More. Cake.
Baklava: My Birthday. Yes, I too am a Christmas baby. For most people, they get to wipe their brows and thank their stars that the holidays are over and all the food they have consumed over the past two months will soon find its way out of their systems. But each year for my birthday I get a half a tray of baklava from my love. And. I. Eat. It. Like. It's. Potato Chips. So there's that.
Sugar Make You Go
Bouncing off the walls.
Took my nephew to school.
Went to the fruit/vegetable market.
Went to the school to work a couple of hours.
Cleaned my room. It was a mess.
Organized my sewing and craft room.
Created a marketing slash office slash budget slash personal goals slash, weight loss plan for the next six months.
As a spreadsheet.
Called our accountant for our yearly appointment.
Called everyone and made appointments with everyone.
Took down both Christmas trees.
Made onion rings.
Talking a lot to anyone and no one.
Dancing down the decked halls.
Imparted great wisdom on the web.
Reviewed the latest Adult Education brochure that came in the mail. Circled some classes.
Colored my hair.
Updated my weekly and monthly calendar.
Completed some on-line banking.
Reorganized pictures for our web guy.
Rewrote copy - four pages worth.
Emailed my son three times. I kept forgetting to tell him stuff.
Cleared off every flat surface in the house. Almost.
Visited with my sister, niece, and nephew.
Baked chocolate chip cookies.
Yes, I made chocolate chip cookies. But thankfully they're for my 21 year old niece for her birthday. She insists I make her a batch every year before she goes back to school. She's a December baby too, born on the 22nd. And so is her brother, born on the 24th.
Stupid sister, having sex in March, be-otch!
Did I eat some of those cookies? Only one from each batch that came out of the oven. Or only the ones that were almost burned or too brown to give away. Only a dozen or so. They're almost gone.
The accelerated particle collider gots nuthin' on me. I might create my own black-hole right here in the living room. So stand back. No really. Stand back.
I've got more to do and there's so little time. I suspect that this sugar high will last about another week or so and then I can relax again with the same lazy panache that is so my trademark.
So onward to the next thing, and then the next. Go to Keely's and check out the list of randomness going on over there and get back to me later.