A rambling list
I love my neighborhood. I went for a run tonight (2 miles, 23 minutes, woo! I'm improving my time with each run!!), and you know what.. I didn't even feel scared when it got dark. I have to say that is something I love about where I live. And something that will make me a little sad when I leave (although, sleeping in the house alone is a totally different story, and I *have* called the police once because I heard a weird noise outside!).
We have been eating out *so* much. UGH. Andy is able to just eat everything he wants (I mean.. hot pocket after hot pocket after party pizza, frozen burritos, 2 dozen cookies, frozen sausage and biscuits, chips at bed time, and beer beer beer all day and a whiskey and coke at bed time)... and not gain a pound or lose a bit of muscle. My husband is ripped. He walks around flexing his muscles constantly and telling me to feel his abs/biceps/triceps... and those side muscles that are so big they resemble shark gills. It actually pisses me off. He does work out... a couple of days a week. At work I'm sure his workouts were consistent. But here at home, I think he's hit the weights once and he can still eat like that. I am so jealous. I don't work out like I should (although I should start since he is home to be a babysitter)... but I do typically eat super clean (not so much since he's been home).. Yeah. I just had to rant about that a little bit. I really want to stuff myself with all the yummy looking junk he eats. I did tell him (and the kids) that once this round of his junk food junkie groceries run out, thats it. He can keep beer in the house but I can't be around the rest of it. Its too hard for me. And I have goals. His junk isn't going to help me. Why I can't resist the junk, I'll never know. My willpower was amazing when I was a vegan. I had no problems watching him stuff his body full of garbage. Probably because I was eating garbage, too... just vegan garbage. Which can sometimes be even worse!
We are leaving for Disneyworld in ONE WEEK! I am very excited, but also stressed about it! I'm stressed because when we come home... the moving process is ON. THREE WEEKS until we're out of this house. EEK!