I feel a little guilty about yesterday’s post. Granted, I still don’t want to hear a hollow “you look pretty” when I am *clearly* looking heinous, but yeah, it’s wretched to complain about that, right?
So some things nicer:
I was worrying about how it had gotten so hard for me wake up at 5:30 am to get to the gym in the mornings since I’d started adapting to my boy’s schedule. Let’s be honest, I would generally welcome any excuse to have to miss waking up that early, so it was sort of awesome to just skip out on it guilt free. But I started feeling pudgier. And the war I waged to fit into size 8 pants started to recede. So I was bemoaning this. What did darling poppet do? He started getting up at 5:30 to go to the gym, too. It just warms the cockles of my curmudgeonly little heart.
margaret edith 