8

It's funny.....the only key broken on my keyboard is 8. That probably doesn't count as reason for a new laptop does it? No. It doesn't, Mel. It doesn't.

8 is the number of pounds I've lost this month! Wahooooooo!!! This leaves 22 lbs. left of my goal to lose 30 lbs. in my 30th year.

I chose a pound a week as my goal and have surpassed that so far. That being said, I've worked hard to lose weight many many times in my life. What makes this time any different? What DOES make this time any different? I ask myself this every day.

I'm still formulating the answer actually. I don't really know. But I think it has something to do with setting attainable goals. Like not choosing 80 lbs. in two months as my goal, as I may have set in previous years prior to a wedding or something. There's that pesky 8 again.

Yes, so far:

1. Attainable goals. 

Failure does not happen overnight. The sun rises on a new day. So, if I ate pizza last night, this does not mean my whole life is over the next day and my whole plan goes out the window and all my weight is back. Nope. It doesn't. I'm paying attention to my mind and my body this time.

2. Livestrong.com. 

I'm tracking my calories and fitness throughout each day. It tells me exactly where I'm at for the day and what else I can have for the remainder of the day. And I get more if I work out more. Deal! Plus, as I've mentioned before, that site is F-R-E-E.

3. Stop drinking 500 calorie coffee drinks at Panera. 

Booohooohoooohooohoooooooooooooooooooooooooooo. Tears flow like wine on this one.

This one hurts. But I have been making some sweet concoctions at home with a little almond milk and a dash of creamer and a bit of rediwhip. WAMBAM! 1/4 of the calories and only a little sorrow of what was lost. 

 Ok, I'm not listing these things up here because I'm now a weight loss guru er something. Oh my, no waaaay. I'm listing them to remind myself come this Thanksgiving what my plan was and how to get back on track. Attainable goals, Mel. Attainable goals.

Anyway, 8 lbs. I'm excited. That's a lot of hamburger. (That's the only thing I regularly buy in pounds).

Go September!!!!

Captchas- where you can go.

Can we talk about the captcha? Or whatever the &%$+ they are?

You know, the the characters a site makes you type in so that you can make a comment on a blog? It says something cute by it to try and make it less obnoxious like, "to help prove you are not a robot?" Something like that. Well, I am not a robot, I'm pretty sure, and it took me 5 tries to complete a correct captcha this morning on one blog. FIVE.

The first three tries I was trying to type in the digits there and then realized they've added a graphic next to it now....a picture of a set of numbers too. Ooooohhhh......how artsy. I can't read them either!

I'd be better off as a robot.

And I hate the made up word captcha and it reminds me of GOTCHA!

I'm putting it on my words to never use list along with STAYCATION and WEBINAR.

That's where you are going.

That being said, I probably have captchas or whatever on  my blog too, because one time, I had creepy anonymous comments on my blog so I installed that.

This fact does not lessen my hate, it increases it. So there.

We should be scanning retinas. Yes. This is the modern world! Yes?

Just come on in

We're basking in the aftermath of sheer embarrassment.

Yesterday, we came home from camping. We unloaded TERRY, our trusty camper, with all it's dirty laundry and dishes, blankets and food, pillows and stuffed animals, garbage......you get it? I sorted piles on our living room floor to put away. Dirty dishes were piled in the sink. We needed groceries first so I could buy soap and laundry soap to tackle this mess. Sure, no prob. I picked up a billion dollars worth over Eli's nap.

When I got back and put most of the groceries away, started one load of laundry, and then Steve was rearing to go take TERRY back to his storage space while it was still light out. Yeah, sure. Fine. We can do that. I'll tackle this mess when we get back.

We went. We came back. There was a card on our table that an agent had just shown our house.

A strong wave of nausea came over me and I thought I might pass out.

I looked at our house.

I started crying.

We had no idea anyone was coming. Obviously there had been some miscommunication here. 

Look, I'm not perfect, but this was the epitome of all that was glaringly bad at one given moment, piled up in stacks. I'm not sure how they got in the door actually. I wonder what they thought of my bras hanging out to dry?

I called the number on the business card, "Um, were you just at .....?".

Yes, they were.

PUKE. OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH.

"Oh, my. I can't believe this. We had no idea anyone was coming. We just got back from camping and we emptied our camper, obviously directly inside the door and took the camper back and we came back and your card was here and we're SO INCREDIBLY mortified!!! Are you still with them? Can you please tell them? OH MY GOSH. Please please please apologize to them for this."

She said she knew something wasn't right.

Oh, really? How could you tell?!

Oh yeah, also, our giant yellow dog was in the back yard too. I'm sure they had a great time trying to see that. 

I'm going to crawl in a hole and never EVER EVVVVERRRR sell my house again.

BOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm sure there was a lesson in this. Go ahead, let me have it.

Have mercy.