There isn't really much to add except that I am being forced to the doctor's office tomorrow- because my knees are NO BETTER. At all. Like, they might actually hurt worse now than they did originally. Maybe not. I've lost track. All I know is I am ready to get running again. Every day that goes by that I haven't run , I have to "X" off a day on the calander marked with something super cool I was supposed to do that day. I'm also still getting cool quotes from runners world, which is awesome except for the fact that they are making me feel like a GIANT LOSER for not running. Mark says I should look at the bright side. (There's a bright side to your knees feeling like they are ripping themselves from their own body for over a week? It better be RAINBOW freaking Brite.) Ahem. Rant much? He says at least I miss the running which will make me more inclined to start over when I am allowed to. I guess he's right, but I much prefer sulking at the moment. At least he doesn't know I think he's right. He never reads this blog. It's below Grand Theft Auto, Fallout 3 and sleeping on his list of priorities. HA.
Speaking of sleeping. Do you know what time Mark went to bed last night? 7:10pm. That's right. I think there were chickens who were still awake after he was asleep. And tonite? 8:35pm. (Which is actually REALLY LATE for him.) This week he is working the PRDI shift. (I think that's how it's spelled. It's pronounced purr-dee.) Anyway, I have no idea what that means other than he has to be at work before the chickens wake up. Like, he has to get out of bed at 3:00, I think. I could tell you how many kinds of wrong this is, and my suspicion is that you would agree with me, but I'm not going to. Here's another awesome part. Mark volunteered for it. I know, he's insane. It's kind of hot. Not really. Since he doesn't read this blog, I'll make another confession. I really miss him. This week I have seen him a grand total of 5 hours. This is not good for me. I'm so whiney when I'm in pain. All I want is to be cuddled and loved and to have someone to complain to and I can't bring myself to put that on him. He's too tired. He's there at 3:45am and isn't home until 5:15pm. I just can't do it. I have made dinner two nights in a row though. It's ready when he gets home so he can eat, shower and go to bed.
I'm Suzie Freakin' Homemaker over here, except for the knees. They are more or less flipping Susie a bird.
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