When I was writing this blog in my head on my way back from the gas station (be honest, you do it too!), I started it saying something about my gas station crap-o-ccino in one hand and diet coke in the other... but alas, I'd be a liar.
This girl hasn't had a Diet Coke in 12 days.
Not really intentionally, either, it just sort of happened. My husband has an incredible hatred for all things artificially sweetened (as he should, I suppose), and despises me partaking in my favorite beverage. A lot. And so I stopped. I wanted one yesterday and I wanted one today, but instead, I filled my 32 oz. cup with ice and good ole h2o.
SO here I sit, drinking crap-o-cinno with sips of water in between.
I shouldn't even really be blogging right now. We had some friends over for dinner last night... and well, I was too tired to clean the kitchen before bed. And so I didn't. And I didn't do it during breakfast, and what do you know if the darn things haven't washed themselves...
So anyway, that's what I should be doing. Not this. I don't have anything to say, even... except that Christmas is in 10 days, my baby girl is 11 months old tomorrow, one week ago we celebrated 10 years of being together and my laundry needs folded. I have 1 more Christmas present to buy, haven't wrapped a thing, am in a wedding this weekend, have two Christmas celebrations and a baby shower all within 48 hours. Phew. And in 12 days I'll be 24 years old.
Anyway, I probably should wade through the dishes and try and find my countertops. Turning on Greg Laurie and off the monitor.