...speaking of being a military wife (not that we were)...
-->This is an interesting post. The remembering to breathe part is a little over-dramatic. (I mean, seriously, if you have a year of waiting, you remember to freaking breathe. Speaking from experience, the hyperventilation and tears usually go away by week #3.) But the whole waiting-on-the military part is dead on. Everything we do revolves around their schedule.
Anyway..*..happy thoughts...*
It's Thursday!
It's okay (and a little sad) that there are only 3 weeks left of school. I better start working on my end of the year gifts!
It's okay that, as you read this, I'm on an overnight field trip...with 4th graders. We'll have to talk about that one next week.
It's okay that R&R is fast approaching!
It's totally not okay that the sub in my RIPPED class made me mad. I like my RIPPED instructor. That's why I go to HER class. Dear sub: Jimmy Eat World is never okay. It's not 2002. And you're not 16. Or emo.
It's officially okay that my finger has decided to shrink back to its normal size, so now my rings fit again.
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| I'm too lazy to flip "Weirdo" around horizontally. Plus, I don't know how. |
It's okay that, now that I've discovered how, I've switched back to the old Blogger interface. They're gonna have to pry it from my death grip in order to get me to switch back to the new one again.
It's okay, it's okay, it's okay....
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| No, it's really not okay. |
It's definitely okay that I had to Google "how to take a screen shot" to get that beauty ^ on my blog.
Oh, and as for THANKFULNESS...@The Ramblings of Mrs. Hargrave
I'm thankful that the pulled muscle in my thigh actually started to feel better because I went to the gym last night.
On the subject of youthful good looks..
I'm thankful that another salesman thought I was young enough to NOT own my house. (I don't own it. We rent.) When I said, "I don't own it", he asked, "Is the owner home?". No. The owner is not.
That someone asked if I was an aide when they found out I work at a school. Because I don't look old enough to be a teacher.
Oh, and someone asked me if I was 17 two weeks ago...
However, last night, a student ran up to me at the gym and gave me a hug. The woman I was talking to asked if the girl (a TEN year old) was my daughter. No. Just no.