I don't like Sundays. Never have. I like them even less these days. I start missing Mother. And thinking about all the shit I didn't do over the weekend. I miss getting email and phone calls, even though the vast majority are work-related. I feel guilty about not catching up on laundry, dishes, paying bills, you name it...
I think about starting back to church. Now that The D walks to church next door, I could go back to being a Methodist. I used to be in a Sunday School class with a cool teacher and fun people. No fire and brimstone or any of that Baptist shit. I usually didn't stay for church - the old attention span was a problem. Once I was texting during church, and at the end of the service, the pastor asked the old lady next to me to stand up so he could introduce her as the guest minister's wife. Whoa. Talk about embarrassing. I tried to be discreet with my texting, but I'm sure it couldn't escape her notice that I wasn't paying rapt attention to her husband's sermon.
Back to the present. In an effort to assuage my funk, I decided to go for a run. It's been over a week since I twisted my knee by falling out of an office chair. I ran two miles on it that evening before it started aching. Except for that first night, it hasn't hurt unless I squat or tuck my leg under me when I sit down. I decided it was worth the risk today. Besides, it's only in the low 90s. I ran like the wind. And felt better for it. Came in the house and laid on the carpet. I didn't bother with getting a towel to soak up my sweat because the cat's bulimia has been raging and I'm on the verge of ripping up this horrid beige carpet and living on the concrete slab until I can get hardwood floors installed. I wonder what's under the carpet upstairs. Probably plywood. I'll tell you what's under my bed. Cat vomit. I heard her retching one night and I haven't gotten around to getting rid of it. I'm sure it's petrified. Thankfully, cat vomit doesn't stink. Or attract insects.
My MP3's battery went out, so I got up and decided to blog. Wish I could find the charger. The D is eating lunch at church today. It's kiddo's birthday and I don't have anything for him. He's impossible to buy for, and besides, he hasn't endeared himself to me lately. Talk about an understatement.
Maybe I should feel guilty for not making a big deal (or any deal at all) about his birthday, but he's like his dad in that he doesn't care about celebrating special events. The Daddler's birthday is Tuesday and I don't have anything for him, either. Oh, well. I'll figure something out.
After the run, in the middle of this blogging session, I discovered a dangerous waste of time. Merriam-Webster Online has a vocabulary quiz that's extremely addictive. I have lots of great new words: obstreperous, obdurate and obsequious, to name three. I'll have to try to use them soon.
Speaking of wasting time, I'm going to close this rambling post and obsequiously fulfill a few of my all too many responsibilities.
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