So for those blog-stalkeratzis (I applaud you), you know that next week counts down, rather ends, the dreary, long separation that wook and I faced for...well your freedom, his schooling, my boredom/slight depression. Can I get an amen?
Incase people need a refresher on D-Day (departure day), I leave Medford at 6am on the 19th. Praise the Lawd! This means that I have to show up at approximately 5:59am to the Rogue Valley International Airport. I joke you not. This is the formal title. Ya, there's one Korean behind the counter, that's how they get away with it. Suuuuper excited to just have progress in getting back east.
And so for your entertainment-slash-slight irrationality on my part. I came up with a theory/concept that you will understand (although one will probably give me the "that's not the same" talk. Haha.)
So ya know how when you're sooo pregnant, and soo close to your due date that you just wanna crap the kid already. I've heard this from multiple sources, so I'm claiming it as truth. Anyways, last night I was about on my last nerve for waiting out the next week that I just wanted it to be next week already. Quit with the funny busines. I'm tired of texting, emailing, calling, harassing, stalking that boy. I just want to be over there already. I'm throwing in the towel. Ding, ding, ding. End of the round. Where's my cookie?
I mean, I have no other understanding of being on this side of the ball. Or, this side of the 2,000 miles. It sucks. And I've been as patient as...well a 2 year old before a nap. Sometimes I go with it, sometimes I revolt. Well, Che, this is a revoluation. (And I have no idea if Che actually assisted in a revolt, I just thought I'd make a history lesson. And I'm way to lazy to Wiki him. So suck it Trebek.)
Okay, enough with the rambling. Tomorrow will be a day of relaxation. At least after work. I've sheduled my birthday facial for tomorrow at 5:45pm. 80 minutes of divine serenity. 80 minutes to turn my mind off and enjoy being a year older, a year more fabulous, and a year where I don't mind resembling a baby giraffe when I run. It resembles heaven in that room. The lights, the music, the angelic touch. Shhhh...ahhhh..........
Make sure Mark gets the memo to not interrupt me please. ;)