The one where Jesus gives me a box of steaks

I have been known to have some crazy dreams. I mean crazy dreams. I have thought about writing a book about my dreams because I think they are that interesting. This one though ranks up there as one of the wackiest.

So I'm at a warehouse and the people are showing us how they operate, etc. They bring out a bunch of huge steaks that are meant to be cooked for our executives. A co-worker of mine accidentally dumps them on the floor and we all react with "awwww... you are in soooo much trouble!" We start to try cleaning them off, perhaps to salvage them. I say "this is Jack in the Box, we don't serve food we dropped on the floor!"
Next scene: Jesus himself comes over to me with a box of steaks and says "these are for your mother." Then he says "Tony will be fine" (a friend of mine, not my husband)... and I say, "is he going to heaven?" and Jesus says "I don't know yet, he's still in processing."

I woke up feeling really good about the part that my friend was going to be ok. I have NEVER EVER had a dream with Jesus or anybody as important as Him in it. That part is VERY interesting to me. Overall, I'd say this dream is pretty wacky, huh?

back on the road again...

OK... so it's been awahile since I've done any sort of running. As in like 4 years. Well... I mean "official" running, with the whole outfit and all. I have been "running"... you know to the fridge and after my 2 year old. Oh, and well, I've worn a sports bra a few times too... when I was trying to hold up my milk bags after birthing the two boys... oh, and I've worn stretchy pants... mostly while pregnant b/c nothing else fit. I've also worn sneakers to work on occasion b/c I am NOT a big fan of heels and the such. However, for the first time in a LONG time I have worn all of these things together AND run... 3 miles to be exact, while pushing a jog stroller! That part made it a bit harder, but I won't use that as any sort of excuse. I have been sore ever since. It's a good feeling though. I like being sore... it reminds me that I've done something good for my body. I got myself a new pair of sneakers, a new feul belt and I am making a comeback people! I had to stick with the same old running watch because we are, afterall, in a recession. I am back and redy to rock it!

I'm in one of those moods so there will probably be a lot of cussing in this post

I am at the hair salon. I'm irritated. I only get so many minutes per week that I can call my own. I schedule things precisely so that I spend as little time away from my kids as possible. I know, weird, but that's where I am in life. Anyway, when I make a 3:00 appt to get my hair did, I expect to start at 3, not at 3:30. They can't fake me out by straight ironing my hair before I get it cut, because I can see right through their bullshit stall technique to cover the fact that haircut lady is late. All I want is a plain old, all one length, straight cut. Simple. I have to repeat myself 4 times "cut it as short as you can while still allowing a ponytail.". That wasn't clear so I say "ok, my only request is that I HAVE to be able to have a ponytail, but otherwise cut it short." Still not clear. So I say... "I want it short, but it has to be long enough to pull into a ponytail." Nope. Still not clear. Blog readers, can you please tell me how to word this request next time so I don't lose it on the haircut lady? Shit. It's not a difficult request. In fact, I know I could get it done at Fantastic Sam's, when in fact I am in a reputable Aveda salon. Is it so simple that it is too hard for their overly creative brains to comprehend? OMG.
Then, because haircolor lady is running late, cutlady is doing some bullshit fancy cutting on my blunt, simple, straight cut- spending WAY too much time on each section that I'm about to fucking scream. Look, I'll pay you the $40 whether it takes you 15 minutes or not... Don't sweat it... This is a no-brainer. I'm a sure thing. Cut the fucking hair and go smoke a cig, just GET IT DONE! Color lady finally gets started and now my scalp is burning off. Ahhh, the things we go through.