Here’s the thing I don’t understand about Iowans and winter…why don’t people slow down while driving in the snow? I was on my way to work this morning and about two blocks from my place, I was getting on the interstate–dead stop, not moving anywhere. Accidents all over the freeway. So, I sit there and wait and wait and wait while verbally abusing myself for not taking my alternative route. This mental bashing lasts the 11 minutes it takes me to go two exits, and I finally get on my highway. It’s no better and then this woman decides to pull out in front of me while I am driving relatively fast, because apparently she hopped out of bed and decided today was the day she wanted my car to eat hers. I didn’t though, and she’s lucky because if she had I would have busted out my new kickboxing gloves and knocked her lights out. I bet I passed 8 different accidents on the way to work. Long story short it took me 52 minutes to drive a 30 minute commute. Great start to the morning.
And yes, in case you thought I wouldn’t come back to it, I got my new gloves! They are red and amazing and already smell. They look something like this and make me feel really strong and important. I’m also sure that they make me much better at kickboxing and now when I take my gloves off and the sweat on my hands smells so bad I could literally vomit right on the spot, I at least know it’s my sweat, and not the sweat of the big dude that sweat in them the time before and Jeff who claims to have cleaned them after every individual use really just throws them in the cabinet for the germs and diseases to fester–that’s a gross word. Anyway, yes, point being, got my new gloves, and am one step closer to becoming a professional. You just wait. I’m not messing around.
Now, I am wishing it was warmer than 10 degrees outside so I could go look at the moon. It’s full and on a clear night like tonight it’s bright and hypnotizing. I find full moons offer lots of hope for some reason–maybe I’m looking too much into it. Maybe it’s the loss of Heath Ledger that’s got me down…Maybe I am just looking for hope because I know in two minutes I am going to trudge my sweaty self downstairs and cook up an extremely satiating 4 point meal that I will eat in my nasty sweats while watching whatever pointless reality tv show they are offering up on the platter of un-prime primetime tv (END THE WRITERS STRIKE ALREADY, WILL YA!?), after which I’ll be jonesing for chocolate all night long and another mental invasion of the little hungry fat cells will occur while the brain tries as hard as possible to force them to retreat. Effing cookie dough, why do you have to taste so good?
Gosh, my life is so glamorous, like Fergie’s…minus Josh Duhamel, all the money, the hit songs, well, you get the point…