On top of that, the glasses I had previously picked out were not the glasses I purchased. I'm worried about that. Here's the thing, I'm not so much a pushover, but I couldn't get the lady who sold me my previous glasses to budge. She kept telling me that the eye wear I wanted this time around did not look good on me. Two weeks prior, four other employees said they were the one's for me. I loved them. I had my heart set on them. I did not get them. I'm mad at myself.
She did; however, keep trying to get me to purchase the Prada eyeglasses. I absolutely loved the Prada - who in their right mind wouldn't, but I did not love the $500.00 price tag they were wearing (and let me mention just how irritated I am right this moment for finding them for this price on the web. I'm not even going to bother looking up the one's I bought for fear of a much. lower. price.) ***gah***
I also bought my mother-in-law a birthday card. I read it. It was really a very sweet card. I did not; however, look at the card. I only read it. I went to sign it and finally viewed the card. It is a card for an African- American mother. An authentic and official Mahogany card complete with label and all. I somehow missed that.
Once more, I famously digress.
I lost my earring. I bought the wrong glasses. I cried over my earring. I tore the home apart. I finally told the husband, to which he responded, "it's okay, baby. You know how you can find it?"My response, "stop looking for it?" But with a big grin he said, "it won't be lost anymore if we just purchase another one!" Which made me want to cry further. He was so understanding. Instead, I managed, "this time I'm making them put screw backs on - not just the push backs. I couldn't handle losing them again." The husband just laughed and said it was okay. I still felt terrible.
On Monday, it was good not to go back into work. I hear now that the big kahuna has basically announced a downsizing will take place by the end of the year. People are definitely worried. I am really glad not to go back to that place, but I felt useless once more. It's not fun not working or not having a mission in life. I know, I know. . . I will post about this later.
I spent most of this week catching up on 2 months of housework and yard work. I have much more to do, but at least it gives me something. I can't sit my arse at this here computer all day now, can I?
I think I may be on the fringe of shin-splints. I could only do 2 miles of my 3 mile run last night. It was excruciating. The husband has been helping me with stretches and massages. Props to the ibuprofen as well. I have a 4.5 mile run to complete tomorrow night, I'll see then what level my pain is at. I can't stop now, the 1/2 marathon is just over a month away.
Also, I think I've discovered I'm a bit anal this week. Or at least more so than I originally thought. Whilst battling wheat weevils for hours, after washing every canned item and throwing out every conceivable box as well as wheat product, this is what my pantry looks like after the assault:
Furthermore, the husband and I finally started to put together our workout room. I was very sad as that meant we took down my nieces room and put it all away. She won't be back - at least not for a long time. I verged on tears once more. I miss her immensely.
A few hours of moving, cleaning, hooking electronics up and we finally have a TV, DVD, computer, CompuTrainer as well as a spin bike all set to go for home workouts.
We then rode bikes together for just over an hour while watching "The Nightmare Before Christmas." And(!) we tackled a core strengthening DVD for the first time ever. Just after we started, we looked at one another with fear. This was not going to be easy. We were huffing and puffing 5 minutes into it . . . . An hour later, we finished. We both almost collapsed. We stretched and ordered a pizza. Take that muscles! To hell with burning fat cells!
Finally, I found my earring this afternoon (and its backing)! I'm still going to take them in for screw backs. I'm not chancing nothing. I've been all smiles since then. I think my week just might be turning around. . . .