How much do you think I’ll gain for next week’s check-in after my post weight-loss celebratory binge? Anyone?

I feel like making a graph.

(Update!) Dude. I totally made a graph. Excel is my bestest friend.

I didn’t start this post to tell you about how cruddy I am at writing. Or even how ironic it is that I have a blog when I a) can’t write and b) don’t even like writing — although that doesn’t seem to stop most bloggers from plugging away year after year. Actually, I didn’t start this post to tell you anything in particular. I just realized that I haven’t made one of those Random-Uninteresting-Shit-I’ve-Been-Up-To-Lately entries in a long long time.

And I’m not going to do it now.

But I’m considering it.

Did I also mention that I’m the The Queen of Procrasti Nation? Several times? Good to know I’m being clear.

</pointlessness>

Now check out 2:06. Is that the theme song from GREATEST AMERICAN HERO?!?!

Everyone sing with me now:

Believe it or not,
I’m walkin’ on air,
I never thought I could feel so free-ee-EE!!

Flyin’ away on a wing and a prayer
Who could it be?
Believe it or not
It’s just me!!!!

Okay, I’m a dork. <3

I’ve just taken the initial test and cranked out 10 pushups, which to me is mildly surprising because I was convinced I’d poop out at 5 or 6. I guess that lifting and hauling The Shake everywhere is helping, even if it’s only a little bit. 10 is all right. It puts me in the level 2 group which means I’ll have to do a set of 7, 7, 5, 4, and then a max set of at least 5 today, Wednesday, and Friday before moving onto the next tier.

I’ll do that later (says Teh Procrastinator) while Shake is snoozing this afternoon.

I wonder if there is a 100 sit-up program.

(Update) It’s almost 4:30 and I finally got around to my first set. Wasn’t expecting Mr. H to ask me to meet him at Carlos O’kelly’s for lunch, and probably should have turned him down since I had stuffed myself on about 4 large bowls of CornPops not even 2 hours before he called. But I went anyway and ordered a salad that I couldn’t even finish half of.

I began the set and did the 7, 7, 5, 4 with no problems. I started with my max set, finished pushup #5, stared at the floor for a couple of beats and managed to force one more out before shaking my head and getting back up again.

After all that, I feel like I should be doing more. I have a tiny 6 lb medicine ball that I use for crunches, so maybe I’ll do something with that.

Nyeesh… Oh well, this means I get to celebrate again when 129 rolls around for a second time.

God, I hope I used the right acronym. Like I said… forgetful.

Anyhoo, that’s what I was posting about. The forgetful thing. Mr. H will call home from work on occasion to tell me when to expect him. Ever since he started back up with the full time Army shenanigans and stuff, he’s started back up with the 24 hour time. Mr. H will tell me, “Hey hon, I’ll probably be home at 1800 or 1830 tonight,” and where understanding used to come automatically, I now have to mentally count on my fingers, “Okay… 12, 13, 14…OH! Oh yeah, that means 6:00pm or 6:30pm, got it.”

And yet the swearing continues. As I’m speaking with other parents and seeing the horrified expressions on their faces, I realize I don’t seem to be capable of unlearning that new skill.

Kindly remind me of all that was unpleasant about being owned by the US Government? Mr. H has been in for 18 years (last February) and with this economy, I find myself worrying about job security should he decide to retire. And then I start missing the field.

How many more times will I need to hear about how retarded I am?

At least once more.

Always.

Much obliged,
Barmy and Friends

And as if that weren’t enough, they went and made one Giant.

Oh. Mygod.

I don’t know why I expected anything less from this kind of game, but, duuuuuuude! 12 year-olds play this!

Well, I don’t feel bad about killing them. That’s for certain.

The catgirls, not the 12 year-olds. Although I doubt I’d feel bad about killing them either, if I were in PvP mode.