I started my doctoral program this week. As dorky as I am, it is very exciting. I find some of the readings will be fascinating and writing 20+ page papers doesn't really freak me out much.
But did you notice I said "some" readings?
Reading for educational purposes makes my eyes close. For real.
I can't do it for long periods of time. Heck, I'm not fantastic at it for 10 minutes at a time without having 14 "SQUIRREL!!!" breaks.
When I was getting my master's degree, I figured out that if I walked while I read, my chances at falling asleep were minimal (though I did test the boundaries of this probability many times).
I would either go walk the track and read, walk on the treadmill and read, or just walk around the apartment. And it worked!
Which is why I now have a treadmill at home. You remember the story.
After my first class on Monday night, it sunk in just how much walking I'm about to do. And as the cheapest person on the planet, I haven't bought a pair of tennis shoes in a very, very long time.
Want proof?
I wore these to the kickball tournament the other night because I couldn't find the "new" tennis shoes my sister had given me when she was tired of them.
Yup. Those are Asics. From high school.
I bet your shoes can't change colors. That's all I'm saying.
So after class on Monday I realized I needed 1) a book bag and 2) tennis shoes.
For once in my life, I sprung for brand new shoes because I wanted to see just exactly how much damage I could do to them using them exclusively for reading class material/dissertation material.
So here is the before shot!
In about 5 years or so, check back and I'll do the after shot in my gown! Don't think I'm playing!
Have you ever said something you regretted?
You know, you said it, and then it was like, "Well shit. Its out there now. No take-backsies."
And now that it is out there, you desperately want to make it better, so you immediately make it worse by CONTINUING TO TALK....
This has never happened to me but MAN did it happen to my husband the other day!
I work on a college campus... with kids who live on campus...
Translation: August is the hell you love to hate and hate to love. It is a beautiful, awful little beast. I both live for it and loathe it.
On top of that, we've had a lot of changes and stress and just stuffs going on so the stress was REAL last week. Big ole nasty understatement.
My husband was home for the 2.5 seconds he has been over the summer and was headed to the store. I was going on about my day and the stresses and woes that came with it... and then I said, "Unrelated... I need you to get me some Diet Dr. Pepper and the biggest bag of peanut butter M&Ms you can find."
His dumbass says, "Ohhhh... Rikki... if I get you those, you'll get chubby."
Oh no he didn't.
Oh yes, Ryan Gosling, he did.
I said, "Excuse me?! I've eaten them all summer and I haven't gotten chubby yet."
He says (direct quote here), "Are you sure?"
AM I SURE?!?!?!
AM I SURE?!?!?!?!
I said, "What the hell is that supposed to mean? Am I sure? Are you sure who you are talking to right now? Are you sure you want to live another day to spend with your fat ass wife? Am I sure?"
Just when you think it can't get any worse... he says, "You haven't even gained one pound? Really?"
He must have caught the dumb in St. Louis. I wanted to donkey kick him right in the taint. Too bad I was on the phone with him at the time or I just might have.
Here is a list of things I said to him for the rest of the mother puppy night... because bless his heart, he had it coming...
- Well one thing is for sure, you won't be getting any of this fat ass tonight.
- (as I was walking away from him) Look away. I don't want my jiggly ass to spoil your appetite.
- I had plans on being on top tonight, but I don't want to crush you.
- Am I allowed to have cheese dip tonight? I promise to only have a serving size so I don't add to the peanut butter donk I have.
- Nevermind, no cheese dip for me. I'll just eat grass from the backyard.
And so much more. To the point he was getting pretty annoyed. To which I replied, "Well at least you aren't too fat. Do me a favor and grease my saddle bags so I can get into the shower."
I always have all the sympathy.
In his defense, he was worried about my cholesterol and overall health. And he repeatedly backtracked and apologized. But at this point, it was fun for me.
If you are a guy reading this, here is the appropriate answer to your wife/girlfriend/anyone with a vagina requesting chocolate...
"Of course, honey! But, what if they don't have a five gallon tub? You know what, never mind, I'll get all they have on the shelves and help you eat it. Would you like to watch the Notebook tonight?"
I don't like the Notebook even a little bit, but play the odds folks.
Never... and I do mean NEVER... insinuate that she may get fat or she isn't aware of how fat she has gotten. If she is anything like me, she will NEVER let you live it down.
Huh, Justin?
I mean... WTF?
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