Welp, I'm alive. Not that too many of you cared, or even realized I've been somewhat MIA since the middle of last week. You can blame all of that on my immune system, though. Because that's who decided to take a few days off, not me. But thanks to the good ol' I.S. I too had to take a few days off of work. Something I haven't done one single time since I started nannying. Something I did all. the. time. at my old job because I hated it that much.
Moral of the story: enjoy what you do for work every day and you won't ever have to play hooky?
Sure why not, that sounds good. But I guess I can't complain too much about my health failing me since that same immune system has kept me completely sick-free for the past five years. But I'm a lifestyle blogger and a baby and a brat so all I do is complain, right? Right.
And boy let me tell you, complain was all I did for those 48 hours of hell. If my body decides it needs to throw up, everyone apparently needs to know about it. Because no one in the history of human life has ever done the same thing before. And no one has ever gotten the chills, felt nauseous (a word that I thank heavens that spellcheck exists every single time I attempt to spell it), had achy bones, and slept 20 hours of the day before me either. I'm the only person on the planet that needs sympathy from all of these ailments. I guess that's just what happens when you
never get sick are a baby/brat.
The only positive that came out of the entire experience? Having absolutely no appetite for anything other than popsicles and ice cubes, thus resulting in the shedding of those extra cruise pounds I gained a couple weeks ago. Score. Oh and the fact that I felt better just in time for my extra exciting/happy as a clam weekend to begin. The same weekend that ended as swiftly as it arrived this morning at precisely 6:20am, thus leaving me in a state of severe depression. Tears fell. It's fine. Revert to the last two words in the previous paragraph to remember why shouldn't feel bad for me. Because now all I have to do is look forward to the next happy as a clam weekend. And I guess that's not all that bad after all now is it.
But anyway, Mondays suck. Mondays after the Super Bowl suck more. Mondays after the Super Bowl that are also filled with snow storms suck even more. Mondays after the Super Bowl that are also filled with snow storms and a few hugs and "see ya later's", well, they just suck straight ballsack. To put it ever so delicately. And there you have my current state of mind. If you want to read something actually worthwhile today then you should probably head over to my besticle's blog and read her post because she nailed it. If only she could give me the remedy for turning a frown upside down.
But you should only go read it after you take a look at the following fancy lady I have to introduce to you. Her name is Maeg and I quickly fell in love with her and her blog quite some time ago. I think I actually told her I liked her before she told me she liked me. Big step, I know. And now she's here telling you all about how we're totally (not) the same person, in the best way possible.
Hello fellow Two Thirds Hazel lovers. I'm Maeg and I blog over at The Modern Tulip, where anything can happen. And by anything, I mean nothing. Just kidding. Stuff happens, like blates and OCD freakouts and really awesome photo shoots and the occasional tutorial. But if none of that tickles your fancy, stop by anyway and I promise a good time will be had by all.
My plan was to write about how Erin and I were so alike today because I thought we were basically twins. I mean we both obsess over Mexican food, a good drink, Christmas, we don't keep cash in our wallets, we love dogs, sports, clothing, and a good lazy day indoors and we engage in sarcastic banter like it's our second job. And that's where my list stopped. I started to compare other things and I then I realized...wait a minute. I can't use that, or that...or that. Crap! That's when I realized we are actually complete opposites. But you know what they say... opposites attract!
Erin can't remember lines to movies unless it's Finding Nemo. Me on the other hand? Movie quotes tend to be every other word out of my mouth. My husband says it tends to be extremely annoying. My mother always wondered why I couldn't memorize the multiplication table like I could lines from movies.
Erin was born with naturally beautiful locks that she has never dyed with chemicals. I visit the salon every 6 weeks and scream, "HELP! Hide my roots!"
I prefer to be a princess, while Erin prefers to be crystal meth.
Erin doesn't like items such as bread/muffins/doughnuts/etc. Where I could live off rolls alone.
Erin prefers beer, while I go for the girliest concoction on the menu.