I can't hardly work and the whole idea of working is hard to put my head around. Every time, I start to follow the path of the ideas on paper, the whole writing process becomes wildly overwhelming. So I'm thinking I might look into antidepressants for a while, but I'm also thinking I haven't walked in several days. So I'll take a walk at noon and report back. I'm figuring I'll feel a lot better after that, but I'm not totally going to blow off the possibility of drugs. I was remembering a few weeks ago, how many drugs I used to do when I lived here 12 years ago. Thankfully, I left that behind. It's just odd sometimes when those memories strike me. I think my evening walks give me too much time to think, too.

Last night, the problem with walking is that we had a rain front come through and Mike had to work overtime, so I didn't walk. Two kids + daddy's overtime = no time for walking. I supposed I could just get Richard Simmons out and try to exercise rather than laugh my ass off, but I need me some sunshine and blue sky.

I have excuses for not walking today, too. Today, the wind is whipping everything into a frenzy which means all that lovely rabbitbrush pollen will be set upon the wind and further into my breathing parts than the asthma meds, certainly. Just how windy is it? Well, it's so windy that the wind is beating the hell out of the blinds which kind of sounds like a drummer on speed. (pithapithapithapithapitha).

Geeezus. I just heard the wind blow something over in the sink downstairs. Thank goodness for Plastic Tumblers.

So yeah, it's windy and it's colder than hell frozen over out there. When I was little, kids called me Windy, versus Wendy. Just a little kids thing, but I remember telling my brother that the North Wind was my boyfriend. He'd beg me to tell it to stop blowing so hard and I'd stand there very solemnly and speak to the wind, asking it to please stop blowing so hard. Most of the time, it worked for a few minutes, but then I finally told my brother that my boyfriend had a mind of his own.

I'll grant you that I've probably been a flatlander for too long, but this mountain weather stuff is going to take getting used to. All those warnings from people that we blew off by saying that we grew up in places like that, are coming back to haunt us. My two long sleeve shirts and two pairs of jeans isn't going to cut it. Mike actually was glad to wear long pants. The King of Shorts was GLAD to wear pants. What is the world coming to? The problem is that he only has two pairs that he can wear right now and (a) we don't get paid until Thursday and (b)losing weight takes time. I made him a lunch today, though. Turkey sammich and grapes and an apple and DIET soda. Ha! He'll probably come home and scrounge for stuff he shouldn't in the fridge though.

But the weather is freaking me out. I have been getting used to nights in the 40's, but tonight, we've been threatened by the weather guys with temperatures in the 30's. I haven't been in temperatures that cold since our trip here through the snowstorms back in the spring. I'm thinking if it's really going to foul up my excuse for not using the herbicide on the lawn if we get a frost now and I'll just have to bite the bullet and do it when the wind isn't whipping my blinds into ceiling. My feet are cold though and my nipples' thermostats are warning me that it is ass cold out there. I don't care about any stinking blue sky if my body parts are turning blue from cold.

Today, my friend, Sue, and I were discussing the merits of auctioning my left buttcheek on ebay. It would contribute to the American Red Cross fund, which is a good thing. I suggested that we could perhaps convert it to a can of lard for it to be worth more. She said something like,"Yeah, then we could sell t-shirts saying,'My friend rendered her ass and sold it on ebay and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.'" Naturally, then we could put a flag on those and sell them on ebay, too. Oh, the enterprise!

Of course,without my ample ass, my butt would be blue, too. Sue suggested butt jewels, but I reminded her that my husband is a butt man and that kind of trashed that idea. I could I suppose render my belly, but I've lost enough weight to where that's not probably going to convert to a whole can of lard, but rather a half can.

Thank goodness for my big warm lard ass and socks.