Friday, January 11, 2008

Chocolate Milk and Lumps on the Head

So yesterday I was on the phone with Maggie at school and as I was talking I had bent over to retrieve a piece of garbage on the floor. In doing so, I nailed my head on the corner of a bookshelf. I gave myself a nice quarter-sized lump on my head and drew a couple drops of blood. It hurt like a mofo too! Stupid, stupid Maggie, distracting me!!! Well, this morning it still kills though the lump has gone down slightly and I think I may just have to call in "sick". No, I kid. We don't even have kids at school today - our workday - so really today is a nothing day. Plus I'll get a ton of stuff done.

I have to stop on the way to work to get a gallon of chocolate milk for the breakfast that some of the teachers are providing at work. Other than that - I have nothing exciting going on. Except: I was lying in bed this morning, awake because Jim had shaken me suddenly asking if I was supposed to be up (I had set my alarm a 1/2 hour later since It's not a regular day - thanks Jim!!!) and I was thinking, Wow! Monday starts 3rd quarter!!! Then it's 4th quarter and then SUMMER VACATION!!! I was startled! And then I get up and Lisa, my roommate at school, had posted nearly that same thought on her blog! Kinda weird.

Oh, I also had a dream that I was going back to college. This time in Connecticut. I had gone to Target to buy all this stuff for my dorm room (comforters, nice rugs, a small TV etc.). Jim and I were still married but apparently I was going off to school - without him - and apparently while I was there, we had agreed that I could "date" other guys. You know, to get the whole "college experience". I guess he and I both ignored the fact that I had a college experience years before. He's such an understanding guy!

OK - I best skat so I can head to Kroger for my gallon of milk. Later. It's FRIDAY!!! Yeah!!!

2 comments:

maggie said...

Don't blame me cause you are retarded and can't see a bookshelf right in front of you.

Dogs Mom said...

It's wrong to call someone retartded or at least that's what the kids say at school when I call them that.