Karmic

I have always been a hard sleeper. I come by it honestly, the true daughter of a man who could nap through his own sneezes, and I really can't complain, since it allows me to snooze pretty much anywhere (long car trips, loud theaters, the roof of a screaming locomotive, and my own living room couch while my husband watches war movies at life-like decibels). Even in the middle of the day, I rarely find it difficult to fall asleep, and once I'm out it's not an easy task to get me moving again. I like my sleep. And I need my sleep -- lots of it -- to avoid a rather messy transformation into an impatient, whiny terror who is just one misstep away from completely falling apart. I am not a pretty tired person.
My husband, however, could not be more opposite. He functions just fine on a few hours each night and is a much lighter sleeper: I am honestly a bit worried for our future children, because while Dad will surely hear them crying their little lungs out in the middle of the night, it's entirely possible that Mom will dream right through it. 
Since returning from a deployment during which 2am wakeup calls were practically a rule, however, poor hubby has had a tough time getting back to a normal sleep schedule. Most nights he struggles to fall asleep before 2 or 3 in the morning, and even then he often wakes up just a few hours later and can't get back to sleep. It is not rare for me to wake up when he finally comes to bed at night, roll over to look at the clock, and realize that I have to get up in less than an hour. 
I try hard to be supportive and sensitive to his difficulty with this, although my own relationship with sleep makes it hard to understand what he is going through and know how to help most of the time. Yesterday, though, I definitely slipped up and opened my mouth when it would have been much better off shut. 
As a preface: the past few weeks have left me more tired than normal. Lots of stress and going to bed too late coupled with colder weather and darker days have exhausted me, and several times lately I've skipped the gym/cooking dinner/cleaning the house in favor of cuddling up for a nap. Wonderful, but always guilt-inducing... especially when "just 20 minutes" turns into 2 hours, as it often does. So yesterday, when Dan and I were watching TV and happened to see a commercial for some prescription medicine that listed "trouble sleeping" as a side effect, I spoke without thinking, uttering something to the effect of, "I'd kill to have trouble sleeping. I'd get so much more done." Um, insensitive and awful, table for one?
I immediately realized how terrible my comment was, a fact which was hammered home by my husband's growl of "You don't get more done. You lie there and try to sleep for hours. It sucks." Youch. I took my foot out of my mouth long enough to apologize, but felt pretty bad about it for quite a while afterwards. In fact, I was still feeling guilty when I went to bed last night... but apparently, the universe decided that guilt wasn't quite enough.
I hit the pillow around 11 last night -- right on time for a pretty good night's sleep in a hopeful attempt to start the week off well. I fell asleep with no problem, like normal... and then woke up about an hour later. I moved my iPad (aka bedtime reading) over to my bedside table and turned over, expecting to fall back asleep with no trouble... except I didn't. I lay there for what felt like ages, watching the minutes of precious sleep tick away, wasted. Ugh. I only know that I did eventually doze off because the next thing I knew, I was waking up again. I checked my phone: 3:15 am. Ugh. This time I lay there so long without any luck that I actually went back to reading, which eventually did the trick. But the night wasn't over yet -- I woke up again around 5, struggled to sleep for almost an hour, and finally managed to fall into a wonderfully deep sleep just minutes before my alarm started to howl. Ugh.
I feel like I've been run over by a bus today. I am exhausted and irritable and my neck aches like I've been sleeping outside for a week. I am counting the hours until bedtime, but in an extra dose of now-I-really-know-how-tough-this-is-on-my-husband, I'm nervous to even look forward to it, knowing that it could be another night of lying there cursing watching the cat sleeping peacefully.
A warning: Karma bites back, and it bites hard. And no, despite being awake more than I slept last night, I didn't get anything done... unless you count learning a valuable lesson. I think I owe my husband a backrub....

   Love,

    Meg

The Ultimate Wish List

Every year, I have the hardest time putting together a Christmas list. My father had perfected the threat, "If you don't send me a list you won't be getting any gifts," which was usually enough to light a fire and get me browsing Amazon for at least few books that looked interesting. But my husband begs every year for even just a glimpse of an idea, and now his poor younger brother, who drew my name in the family exchange, has been texting me asking for tips too. 
Sadly, my excuse is not terribly altruistic -- it's not that I don't want anything, not that I don't see things practically every day that I would be thrilled to find under my tree. I'm simply terrible at keeping track of these items when I do find them, so when this season rolls around, I have only vague memories: "it seems like there was a pair of shoes I wanted about two months ago....." When you ask me today, I simply can't remember what I'd like.
So, to any of you who may be reading this post with great anticipation, expecting a wealth of previously untold ideas for the perfect gift (hi, hubby!)....... sorry to disappoint. I did, however, do a little brainstorming recently on what I might include on my ultimate Christmas list...

nail polish that doesn't chip

This is the current sad state of my nails. They looked great for about two hours a few days ago, between the moment that all the excess polish finally wore off my skin and the time they started to chip. Expensive manicures sometimes last as much as a day or two before I scrape my hand against something and ruin them. Is moron-proof nail polish too much to hope for? (Or while we're wishing, should I perhaps just skip the small potatoes and ask for a little bit more coordination and grace?)

someone to pack my clothes for me every night

Every evening, I trudge upstairs half asleep, dying to crawl straight into bed and shut my tired eyes. Every morning, I drag myself out of bed and curse my night-before-self for only tossing a pair of socks and a sports bra in the general direction of my gym bag, thus landing me in crisis mode, standing in my closet bleary-eyed and grouchy trying to figure out what on earth I can pack for work that matches doesn't clash too badly. It's brutal.

a lifetime supply of straws

I have a thing for straws. I bought some of these adorable paper straws in our wedding colors for our cocktail hour. I keep a stash of the regular plastic ones in pretty colors and use them 90% of the time around the house and at work (coffee and wine being the two big exceptions to that rule). 

... it's okay, my husband thinks I'm weird, too.

a puppy who will stay a puppy

While I'm not going to miss the sharp puppy teeth and the accidents around the house, I'm pretty sad that my little boy is growing up so fast. The tiny furball who I could scoop up in one hand and hold while he slept is now looking more and more like a big dog every single day (and does he ever sleep anymore??). He isn't even three months old and I'm already ready to get him a little brother...

more time with this guy

I'm including a little something for the hubby in this wish list: better work hours. I miss him on the evenings that he works late! And the whole working-on-Saturdays thing has gotten pretty old for both of us. I wish like crazy he could find a job he loves with normal person hours.

a year of pain-free running

While my shin splints are mostly better, it seems like there's always a twinge, an ache, or a cramp somewhere. I could definitely use a fresh set of legs each morning, mine to run down (literally) as I please. If they could also be long and tan like the ones above, well, I guess I wouldn't say no to that either...

a serving of whatever my coworkers eat for lunch every day

Around noon every day my office begins to smell like the house on Thanksgiving morning. Some days it's chinese, some days it's leftover pasta, and some days I can't even tell what it is, but it always. smells. incredible. and I just cry into my salad bowl. 

the ability to function on less sleep

I have become an old lady in my mid-twenties. I start yawning around 9:30, and by 11 I can barely keep my eyes open. If for some crazy reason I am still among the living post-midnight, you can guarantee I won't be good for anything except keeping the couch on the ground the next day. I would get so much more done if I could stay awake a little longer each day, but I've heard it's not a good idea to fall asleep while vacuuming your house.

the ability to un-read things I've read on facebook

This doesn't really requires an explanation, does it?

So there you have it -- a few ultimate wishes. What are you wishing for this holiday season?

Love,

Meg

I Don't Want To Talk About It

There are a lot of things that I don't want to talk about on this Monday morning... first and foremost being the fact that it is a Monday morning. Other things include:
 -- the distinct possibility that my husband will be deployed to NJ/NY in the next few days for over a month. I absolutely understand that so many people in those states need help and my heart is breaking for them every time I hear more about the destruction. I realize that wanting to keep my hubby at home is incredibly selfish, and yes, I feel quite guilty about it. But the thought of him missing Thanksgiving, my birthday, and the great majority of the "holiday season" for the second year in a row makes me pretty darn sad. Oh, and not to mention: there goes the honeymoon again.....
 -- this damn election. I am so incredibly sick of political ads, political analysis, political signs littering our beautiful state, and political posts all over social media by misinformed or simply ignorant people. I am so ready to vote tomorrow and put this whole mess behind us. My biggest nightmare is that recounts, small margins, and candidates who aren't willing to admit defeat will drag the process out and we will still be talking about this in a month. In which case, I may run away to Canada until the inauguration. Yes, please vote tomorrow. And on Wednesday morning, no matter what the outcome, please please please get on with your lives.
 -- my poor car, which sits in a cold garage awaiting its fate this morning. I wonder if it knows what's coming?
 -- how early I got up this morning in order to get to the gym, get ready for work, drive home and pick up the hubs, drive him to work, and then get all the way across town to my office on time. I don't think I really woke up until a few miles into my run. Interesting note: the gym is sooo much busier an hour earlier. Also, there are a lot more women walking around the locker room with not a stitch of clothing on. Awkward way to start the week.
 -- the fact that I spent the entire weekend cleaning... and I'm still not done. Our house was in serious need of a deep clean/decluttering, so Saturday morning I woke up early, went for a run, and then dove right in. I spent a solid 12 hours scrubbing/washing/organizing/folding/mopping/finding new homes for things/finding hiding spots for all the things for which I couldn't find new homes. And then I woke up yesterday and kept going. By last night, our bathroom and bedroom looked pretty darn impressive, our kitchen looked much better than it did, and our living room saw a bit of progress. The dining room, office, and guest room? I'm just lucky that two out of those three have doors that can be shut...
 -- the frighteningly large number of thank you notes still left to be done. Just the thought of this makes me sweat a bit. One day soon I'm going to sequester myself at a Starbucks table with only some music and this task. Except really, I hear the holiday accessories have arrived and I just want a good excuse to get my hands on one of those beautiful red cups.
Nope, I definitely don't want to talk about any of that. Not one bit.


   Love,

    Meg

Thursday Things

Despite the fact that I skipped my morning workout (for the first time in a whole month!) in favor of a little extra sleep today, my brain is still yawning, stretching, and shuffling its feet a bit. Random, scattered bullet points are as good as it's going to get, boys and girls.
 -- First things first: the magic of fall has officially returned in two of the most amazing, most delicious, most heart-attack inducing bowls you can imagine:

YES, PLEASE.

AND THANK YOU.

I'm telling you, it's the quintessential Thanksgiving dinner, fast-food style. The thing is, though... it's good. I can't say that I've ever had both the turkey bowl and the dessert in the same meal, or even in the same day, but I have a feeling that such close proximity might result in some kind of fireworks. Sadly, I haven't had the opportunity to celebrate the return of either yet, partially because the closest Wawa (where one finds the turkey bowl) is at least an hour away... boo. Unfortunately there is a Dairy Queen not two minutes from our new house, though, so the only thing standing between me and that amazing blizzard is my willpower... ha. What willpower?
 -- Tomorrow night I have to speak to a rather large, rather well-dressed crowd about my dad. Cue the stress headache now, please. I've been trying to write out my thoughts for days now, hunkering down at my desk during lunch to work and then fretting over it for the rest of the afternoon. While I have a lot of ideas, they just weren't meshing well into the short, heartfelt message I wanted to share. So yesterday, I took a hint from my college days: I went straight home from work, made myself some tea, and curled up in bed with a stack of paper and a pen.

The only difference from my college days was the appearance of a snoozing cat at my feet. I didn't mind the addition.

And I wrote... and wrote... and wrote. And cried. And wrote. And once I finally organized my thoughts into a coherent structure and felt comfortable with the flow, I took a celebratory nap.
 -- Speaking of my beloved alma mater, they had a very special visitor yesterday:

Why yes, that is His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama of Tibet. And yes, he certainly is holding a W&M visor that he wore for his entire hour and a half talk. I watched the live streaming video of his remarks and was so impressed -- he had a truly inspiring message about forgiveness, compassion, and the meaning of religion. I also loved getting to see the professor in the background of this picture -- I took his class on Buddhism my sophomore year and it was one of the best of my four years there.
 -- Yes, now you know where I went to school (if you hadn't figured it out already)... and yes, there are a lot of stereotypes out there. Yes, I am a nerd. Yes, I worked my little butt off. Yes, I still had as much fun as your average college student. No, I wasn't sober for four years straight. Yes, I wish I could go back on a daily basis.
 -- Why do some adults act more like the cast of Mean Girls than reasonable, mature, decent human beings? That's all I will allow myself to say about this...
 -- Tonight: Vice Presidential debate or cleaning my kitchen? It's a toss-up... I have a feeling the dishes might be less painful. Is this damn election over already?
And all at once, my morning coffee is gone and my brain has decided it's time for a nap. I should probably stop while I'm ahead. Takeaway for today? Go treat yourself to a blizzard. You deserve it (and so will I, after I run around the neighborhood a few times this afternoon).

   Love,

    Meg

Quick and Easy Ways to Ruin a Thursday

Just in case you need a tutorial:

1. Schedule a holiday for Wednesday. Preferably one that involves sleeping late, lounging by the pool, enjoying excellent food with wonderful friends, cornhole, beer, a fire pit, and reluctantly driving home entirely too late at night.

2. Upon arriving home quite late on Wednesday night, forget the laundry started earlier in the day. Allow most of the clothes you own to wrinkle overnight.

3. Feel proud that you do remember to prepare breakfast for the next morning, knowing in advance that being alert at 6 AM is likely to be difficult, and will prove nearly impossible without coffee and oatmeal. Forget, however, that one key ingredient for said breakfast was a casualty of the Great Power Outage of 2012 (if I call it that, it means that there can't be another one this year, right?). Resign oneself to bland oatmeal.

4. Upon finally emerging from bed after hitting the snooze alarm one too many times, watch sadly as the cat repositions himself, curling up in your still-warm spot, yawning, and proceeds to lay his head directly on your pillow. Try not to curse the cat.

5. Once at the gym, step onto the elliptical for the billionth time this week. Select the same program as always (to give myself some credit, it is the hardest hill profile the damn thing offers). Look over at the treadmill mournfully, causing right leg to twinge with pain at even the thought of running. Try not to curse the leg.

6. Return from workout to find husband still happily asleep. Know that he is likely to remain in this state for another hour or two. Wish like heck that some days, you didn't have to be at work until 2 in the afternoon, either. Laugh because you know that means you'd have to work until 10 at night, and you are often asleep on the couch by 9.

7. Drive to work in sad old car with no air conditioning. Sweat through shirt for first time today in temperatures already steamy enough to prompt a heat advisory. Resolve to look again for a good deal on a new car that doesn't feel like a traveling inferno. 

8. Buy gas on the way to work. Ponder (for the gazillionth time) requiring that a new car run solely on electricity. Or water. Or love.

9. Arrive at work to a completely empty parking lot. Wonder if you're somehow early and have simply beaten everyone here. Realize that you are, in fact, a few minutes late, but that four out of every five employees have taken the next two days off.

10. Sit down at desk to write a to-do list. Complete one page and continue on to a second... and then a third. Fight the urge to crawl under the desk and hide from life and its responsibilities.

11. Dream of the weekend. Realize that the weekend is jam-packed with overcommitment, too. Realize that the rest of the month is similar. Realize that the rest of the summer, in fact, is going to be crazy. Realize that it actually extends past summer, through the much-anticipated September 28th. Dream of the honeymoon. Consider giving up a room with an ocean view for extra pillows on the bed.

Note: Can't say that I recommend following any of these procedures. Except maybe the first one... that was definitely worth it. 
Hope that everyone had a wonderful holiday!

   Love,

    Meg

Friday Favorites: Toes, Trips, and (Movie) Trailers

Isn't it funny how things always go a little haywire the day before a 3 day weekend? (Answer: no. not funny at all.) After Monday's ridiculousness, things quieted down enough that I was tricked into believing we could slide gracefully into the weekend. Ha. In the past few hours, my to-do list has doubled in size, I've had almost 300 pages of "suggested reading" dropped onto my desk, and we've suddenly reached a very time-intensive wedding task: the gathering of the addresses. Now I know what I will be doing while sitting out on the dock this weekend...

Despite all that, though, it's nice to slow down for a minute and talk about the happy parts of the week. Even though it wasn't all sunshine (literally), the good managed to outweigh the bad yet again and little delights like these made it a great one.

It's been quite a while since I got caught in the rain during a run (and the last time it didn't end so well), but yesterday's 8-miler was graced with about 20 minutes of downpour. Luckily I was prepared with a plastic bag for my phone, so I was able to keep on trucking and enjoy the little shower. It was a nice distraction on what turned out to be a pretty great run... although I think my brand new shoes might disagree:

not exactly the way I was hoping to break them in...

One of my poor toenails is just hanging on for dear life. I have always been a little squeamish about feet, so I'm trying not to think about it too much. But speaking of toes...

Too many pictures of my feet for one post? I promise I'm done now.

There's nothing like a lunch-time pedicure to make you feel special (and kill any chance at productivity for the rest of the afternoon). Thankfully, the poor woman who treated my toes did a great job with the aforementioned almost-casualty... you can barely tell how sad-looking it really is. I don't typically splurge like this, but I thought it would be the perfect way to get ready for:

This pic is from my very first trip to the lake with Dan: I was 18 and we had been dating for about a year. Thankfully, my choice in swimwear has come a long way since then...

We are headed to the lake this weekend for some sunshine and a visit with Dan's wonderful grandparents. We've been trying to plan a trip down for months now, and this long weekend seemed like the perfect time to sign up the dog-sitter and pack up the car. Hurray for relatives that live in gorgeous places and are sweet enough to host us... and feed us... and drive us around in the boat!

Naps. 'Nuff said.

Despite the crazy amount of work that has converged upon my cubicle today, I am quite comfortable in the assertion that my boss is the best in the world. While my previous manager was pretty great too, I am now incredibly lucky to be working with someone closer to my age who is so laid back and good at what she does. I really don't miss the days that I dreaded coming into work.

Thought I'd end on an anticipatory note: Christmas is still a lifetime away, but this is just one of many reasons I wish it would hurry up...

Happy weekend, everyone! Have a safe and fantastic holiday!

   Love,

    Meg

Playing Hooky

This has been one of those mornings that would have been better off if I had just turned around and gone back to bed. I made the sleepy morning decision to skip the gym in favor of extra sleep, which in principle was probably a good idea for my exhausted, overtrained body, but in reality left me with only a few minutes of added snoozing and a major guilty feeling when I finally did roll out of bed. Add to that a few laps around the house trying to chase the puppy into her kennel (someone's not getting enough attention now that mom and dad are both working during the day) and an unsettling bite out of my wallet in the space of about 20 minutes (dropped off the rent check and then had to stop for gas, which might as well be liquid gold these days), and you have all the ingredients for a very grumpy morning. I am running dangerously low on energy, motivation, and patience, and I am essentially unfit to do anything other than prop myself up at my desk and watch the clock.

(Since someone shared this with me a few weeks ago, I have literally pulled up this picture every day. Makes me laugh every. single. time. I know how you feel, Ambrose.)

In an attempt to be productive/pull myself out of my funk, I hit up the usually foolproof Pinterest for some easter-y goodness, but even browsing that tried-and-true pick-me-up just left me disappointed... and hungry for chocolate eggs. Humph.

So I headed off to the kitchen, because nothing redeems a morning like an English muffin with the best jelly in the whole wide world, right?

To the random guy in the jelly aisle months ago who practically forced me to buy this brand because "it's life-changing"... I'm sorry for thinking you were creepy. You're absolutely right -- my life is better. I owe you one.

Now, one burnt thumb, one burnt English muffin, and one "why on earth did I put this empty jar of jelly back in the fridge?!" moment later, my day still has not improved. Humph.

So today, since I'm left at a complete loss as for how to salvage the hours between now and bedtime, I am going to do something I never do: I am combining half a personal day with a bit of overtime I've already worked this week. I am leaving the office at noon. I am going home, spending a little time at the gym, eating a real lunch, and taking poor neglected Tess to the dog park for a little sunshine. Then I am going to bed for a long, blissful nap. And I am going to try like hell not to feel guilty about any of it. Hopefully, a few hours spent taking care of myself is all I need to snap myself out of this exhaustion, recharge my battery, and get back to feeling like a real person again. Fingers crossed.

   Love,

    Meg

Portrait of a Monday Morning

This morning, all before 8:35, I:

 -- rolled myself out of bed after hitting the snooze button only once, vowing never again to stay up past 9 PM

 -- pulled on several layers worth of workout clothes and tied my shoes with only one eye half open

 -- assessed status of clothes that were put in the dryer to "dry" last night.... and restarted the dryer for another cycle

 -- sprinted down to the gym in approximately 20 degree weather, dodging icy patches on the sidewalk with moderate success

 -- busted my you-know-what on the elliptical for 30 minutes, burning either 455 calories (according to the machine) or something approaching 250 (a much more likely reality)

 -- cranked out 100 situps and 3 full minutes of planking (the kind where your abs feel like they might be on fire, not the weird/dangerous hanging-off-a-balcony trend)

 -- sprinted back home in approximately 21 degree weather (the sun was starting to come up, which I figure must mean something, even though it felt just as cold)

 -- allowed my fingers and nose a few minutes to thaw out

 -- located, measured, and dumped several ingredients into the crockpot

 -- crossed my fingers that said ingredients in the crockpot would yield an edible meal in 10 hours

 -- rolled my never-to-be-confused-with-a-morning-person hubby out of bed

 -- showered, dressed, put on makeup, tracked down matching earrings, dug out heels from under a pile of laundry, changed my mind and switched shirts, realized that said switch also necessitated a change in scarf color, located the correct scarf (3 rooms and one bathroom later), and tripped over the cat no less than 4 times in the process

 -- made myself a cup of coffee, packed muffins for breakfast

 -- looked at the clock and choked, coaxed my husband into agreeing to bring me lunch since there was no time to even think about what I might be able to take for lunch other than more muffins (which wasn't an entirely terrible thought)

 -- found a pair of matching gloves with surprising speed

 -- scraped the windshield of my husband's truck while he sat inside, toasty, grumbling about how warm he would be if he were still in bed

 -- flew into work only five minutes late, making it to my desk just in time to grab the first of what is sure to be dozens of phone calls today

All of this to say... would someone kindly let me know when it's time for my nap?

   Love,

    Meg

The Christmas Let-Down

There's nothing like the morning after a three day holiday weekend to jolt you back to reality. 6:30 this morning may as well have been 3 AM, as alert as I felt. I'm pretty sure I didn't actually wake up until about halfway through my run, which was luckily on the treadmill this morning -- I swear one of these mornings I'm going to open my eyes and find myself miles away from home. My only consolation this morning is that while it felt like a Monday, it is, of course, Tuesday, and the beginning to a four day week followed by another three day weekend... I could get used to this.

Our weekend consisted of one wonderful date night, two days of pure and utter chaos, and one of incredible laziness that just barely made up for all the sleep previously lost. Santa found our house (thankfully... we have no chimney) and brought me a lovely new laptop, a beautiful snowflake necklace, a gorgeous KitchenAid mixer, and lots of other nice things. I am very lucky to have married such a great shopper who takes Christmas very seriously, from the diamonds down to the chocolate in my stocking.

Somehow all of the baking got done, some just minutes before it was to be served/gifted. We handed out 16 tin cans of these yummy cookies:

[via, because my pics are all still on my camera]

They were a huge hit and looked super cute thanks to this wonderful printable label. The downside of this little project is that there are currently 6 enormous containers of fruit cocktail, canned peaches, and mandarin oranges from those tin cans in our fridge. We will be eating (un-)canned fruit until at least St. Patrick's Day...

I also baked brownies and made Santa hats like these:

... that of course weren't nearly so cute, but basically got the point across. Finally, I whipped up oreo balls dipped in chocolate and marbled cheesecake bites. My poor kitchen will never be the same: it looks like we had a small snowstorm of crushed candy cane bits, drizzled chocolate, and graham cracker crumbs.

The real adventure of the weekend, however, was our foray into veterinary care. My stepmom headed up to New York to be with her family for the holiday, and we volunteered to care for the pets over the weekends that she is gone (luckily there is a housesitter there during the week). This task is complicated by the fact that one cat is diabetic and needs insulin shots twice a day, and that currently all five cats (Yes, five. No, she's not a crazy cat lady. They're all very sweet and impeccably clean.) are being treated for some virus that requires two doses of a thick pink liquid each day (think pepto bismol but chunkier). If you have a cat, you can relate to the fact that trying to get liquid down such an animals throat is roughly as easy as scratching your ear with your little toe... and probably as painful. These cats certainly aren't dumb, so catching them got increasingly more difficult as the weekend wore on and typically involved shutting doors behind us to trap them in, launching ourselves under beds and between recliners, and holding on for dear life once we got a handful of fur. We started wrapping them in a towel upon capture to avoid minimize the claw marks we sported across our hands, arms, and faces. Then I would gingerly place my entire body weight on top of the cat while Dan gently attempted to pry open their mouth and stick the syringe down their throat while navigating the rough terrain of sharp teeth. It was nothing short of a miracle when we were able to check off all five cats for a dose, and I swear I have never felt so proud of anything before in my life. Dan and I will be resting up this week in preparation for another three days of this next weekend... all I can hope is that my stepmom will come home to five healthy cats and a daughter and son-in-law who are still alive.

For now, my goal is to get through this week with minimal stress, maximum sleep, and a little bit of pre-planning for what is shaping up to be a fun New Year's Eve. I am also hoping to catch up on the gazillion blog posts I have neglected to read over the last month or so... I am looking forward to finding out what my favorite bloggers are up to lately!

Hope that you all had a wonderful holiday weekend and that the transition back to the office (if you had to make it today), has not been too painful. Only three and a half more days until the weekend!

   Love,

    Meg

Where Can I Hire an Elf?

I have a history of stressing about Christmas, but this year has certainly been the worst in recent memory. My bank account is screeching in horror and my sore feet are harmonizing, my shopping list has far too many items without an accompanying checkmark, and a dense fog seems to have settled into my brain for a long winter's nap. Thankfully, Amazon.com has singlehandedly saved the holiday for those nearest and dearest, and I am so very excited for the incredibly large volume of stuff that will, assuming this Christmas miracle stays on track, arrive at my doorstep on December 23. Which, if anyone is keeping score, leaves me exactly 24 hours to wrap and be-ribbon, curl and tag, decorate and perfect... or stuff into bags and throw on a bow. Not to mention the dozen or so parties and presents for which I need to bake, the fir tree that has yet to be decorated, the stocking stuffers which have been neither purchased nor even identified, and the nasty little detail that I have to be at work every day through Friday. Mix in a little family drama (it certainly wouldn't be a holiday without it) and you have one big Christmas cocktail of stress and exhaustion.

right on, Mr. Rockwell

But as much as the shopping, the traffic, the cold, and the enormous pressure makes me think the Grinch may have had the right idea in the first place, I know that it will be worth it to see the looks on Christmas when everyone opens their perfectly packaged gifts. My dad was never a huge fan of all the holiday commotion, a conviction that often earned him the Scrooge title, but one thing he undeniably loved (and had an uncanny knack for) was finding that gift you never knew you wanted but, from the first peek through wrapping paper, don't know quite how you lived without. I am lucky to have inherited this commitment to hours of searching for the very perfect gift for each and every person on my list, and I'm pretty excited to carry on that tradition for him. Even if such dedication requires that on Christmas eve I will be sipping my coffee and working my little fingers to the bone all night... that's where I'll be. If only my dad could also have passed along his impeccable wrapping skills...

   
   Love,

    Meg

The Backwards Taper (Also: Why Blogger and I Are Not Speaking)

Ed: This post was written, published, and subsequently eaten by Blogger on Friday between the hours of 4 and 7. Thankfully, the text was still living in the depths of my computer at work, so I'm trying this again. Sorry for the delay!

Tomorrow morning I will be up before the sunrise, grumbling as I rifle through my closet, searching for a pair of socks that actually match, sleepily pulling on layers to prepare for both frigid and sweaty (possibly at the same time), and hopefully stumbling out the door just in time to make it to the starting line. The fact that the sun is scheduled to come up at the exact same minute the gun goes off is less than thrilling. The fact that it is supposed to be 45° at that minute is downright depressing. My only consolation right now is that it is only a 10k, so barring any catastrophe, by 8:30 I'll be snuggled back up in my sweats and my biggest concern will be french toast vs. hash browns for breakfast (these are important decisions, people).

Even though this is a short race and I am fairly confident that I could make it 6.2 miles even in pretty awful conditions (Dear Racing Gods: That was not an invitation for rain, wind, or snow. Thanks for understanding.), I can't help but feel like I've done everything exactly wrong when training for this race. I have, however, discovered a foolproof way to avoid the "taper crazies" going into a race: get them out of the way early.

Last week, I struggled through several long days of no running (and all the mental anguish that comes with that) as I waited patiently begrudgingly for my shins to get their act together. I felt sluggish and guilty for most of the week, uttered a few choice words every time I walked down a flight of stairs and felt the pain in my legs reappear, and lay awake each night positive that the unanticipated break would ruin any chance at a decent race tomorrow. No amount of cross training lifted my spirits. I was cranky, stressed, and overly tired. All the horrible parts of a taper.... but no race to make it all worthwhile. Yuck.

By last Saturday, I was so determined to get in a few miles that I think I would have gotten out there even if my legs had been literally on fire. Thankfully, the pain was much better (though still not gone), and I declared myself officially cured. Looking back, I'm not convinced that I was completely healed (or that I am even now), but I wasn't having to stop every half mile to rub my shins and try not to cry, so I was happy. The plan for this week was short but consistent mileage to build my speed back up. Saturday and Sunday I forced myself to slow down, but the rest of the week I've been pushing the pace and fighting the voice in my head that continues to insist that I am exhausted. Which I am. But when you waste your taper two weeks before the race, you don't really have time to be exhausted.

I did give myself today off, so hopefully my legs will be at least a little rested by the time I hit that starting line tomorrow morning. I have a feeling that a lot of the other runners in this particular race are going to be serious and fast, so I'm hoping that their speed will push me a bit... although not too much because I'd rather not die halfway through. I do a lot of training runs around this distance but have never raced a 10k before, so I'm not totally sure what to expect and how to plan on pacing. Negative splitting is always a nice goal, but I'm not typically very good at that. If all else fails, I just want to be able to look back (over french toast... or hash browns?) and know that I ran the best race I could, despite pain and exhaustion and weird training schedules. Who knows? Maybe I'll surprise myself and have a great race... in which case you'll find me in line at the patent office on Monday, trademarking the backwards taper training method. 

   Love,

    Meg

TGIF

Somehow, the past six days, spent crammed into a tiny hospital room with a constant rotation of nurses, PCAs, students, family members, friends, and the occasional crazy food services worker, have left me slightly less than energized. Somewhere under the cover of beeping IVs and whirring blood pressure cuffs, or along the lengthy trip between parking garage and top floor, far corner, or possibly while I was trying desperately not to pass out at every mention of needles, my sanity executed a perfect "ditch-and-run." And despite the fact that my dad is finally home and resting, I am still left searching for it, checking under the rather large stacks of work on my desk, peering into the precariously balanced sink full of dishes, and poking around the dusty corners of this neglected blog. I've been trying desperately to lure it back with long runs and generous amounts of coffee, and I'm hoping that it has the good sense to return home at some point during this long-anticipated three-day weekend... we will see.

It has certainly been a trying week, but thankfully, we have all somehow limped across the finish line. Some of us are a bit worse for the wear, but we're all still pushing forward, thrilled to have made it through this first stretch, and trying not to think to hard about the second starting line, looming in the distance. Luckily, my dad will have the rest of the month to recover before heading back in for round two.

Thanks for bearing with me as I attempt to get back to blogging as quickly as my sleepy little brain will allow. And just in case your weekend needs a little happy...

... we've got you covered.

  Love,

    Meg

Lagging

I am so very behind... on everything. I'm behind on laundry. I'm behind on dishes. I'm behind on the constant battle to prevent our apartment from being overtaken by clutter and cat hair. I'm so behind on work that I doubt I'll be able to catch up even this week. I'm behind on magazines and my Netflix queue and reading all of your wonderful blogs. I'm behind on all the errands that need to be run, as evidenced by my woefully empty refrigerator and the fact that Toby enjoyed real tuna for dinner because he finished the last of the cat food this morning. I'm behind on staying in touch with people -- I owe so many friends phone calls and facebook messages that it makes me a little shaky to think about it. And, of course, I am inexcusably behind on blogging.
Lest you get the impression that I've been sitting around with my feet up, letting the world pass me by and my responsibilities simply pile up, here's a little snapshot of what I've been up to in the past week-ish:
 -- I've worked a ton of overtime. This is pretty normal for some jobs, but not at all for mine. This week has been absolutely crazy, to put it mildly. Not exactly fun, but woohoo paycheck! On the other hand, I don't think my cat recognizes me anymore...
 -- I've run two races -- the half and then a 5k this past weekend. Both were tough in their own special way, but I was really happy with my times and pretty excited to get into racing after months of training. Now, I'm lengthening my daily runs a bit, adding in a few more structured workouts (think tempo runs and speedwork), and looking forward to a 10k in about a month.
 -- I've listened to about a million hours of Pandora... thank goodness for the year's subscription I got for Christmas last year. Thanks dad, and don't worry -- I'm getting your money's worth!
 -- I've eaten lots of meals with my family. That's what you do when you have an awesome family. And also when you're broke and grocery-less. But mainly just when you have really nice parents.
 -- I've cooked a lot of vegetables. My new favorite dinner consists of chopped garlic and onion, olive oil, a little white wine, some lemon juice, and whatever veggies I can find in my fridge (typically okra, mushroom, squash of some variety, etc.) It's the easiest meal ever and I don't feel quite as guilty as I do on nights I make that other thing I love to cook (pasta, of course). 
 -- I've gotten very little sleep. It seems like every night when I get home from work/dinner/running, there are a billion things to around the apartment. Last night I found myself scrubbing the microwave at 11:00. The rest of the kitchen may be a mess, but this morning I appreciated my sparkling clean microwave.... as I yawned and poured myself a large cup of coffee.
Tonight, however, I am sitting in bed and it is only 9:30. I am minutes away from a wonderfully long night's sleep, which will hopefully be enough to get me through another long day at work tomorrow, a long run tomorrow afternoon, and maybe even a quick run to the grocery store. And one of these days, just maybe, I'll get ahead. Or even just a little less behind. Honestly, I'll take what I can get.

   Love,

    Meg

Aftershocks

Hurray for making it through Wednesday! Now it's just a downhill slide into the weekend... and hopefully a quick one. Right now my life is consumed with lots of little things... nothing quite as huge as the 20 seconds or so of crazy shaking yesterday that scared the daylights out of me while it lasted (I work in the basement of a 5 story building that sounded very much like it was going to come down on top of me). Nope, life has been more like the little rumblings that have followed: fragmented, slightly exciting, but thankfully non-cataclysmic.
 -- I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't looking forward to a weekend without a double-digit run -- as much as I've been loving logging long runs on the weekends, I am cautiously tapering for the race Labor Day weekend. As a beginner, I get the feeling that I'm probably not worthy of a long, leisurely taper, but lately I've been running as many as 40 miles a week and my legs are feeling great, so I'm backing off a little so that they will be fresh. Now if only I was feeling just as great mentally... I'm getting nervous and my stomach has started to do a little flip-flop every time I think about that starting line. Hopefully a weekend of relaxation by the pool, extra sleep, and cuddling with Toby will help me calm down and get my head in the game.
 -- In a continuing effort to eat my favorite pasta sauce for as many meals as humanly possible, I made a pizza tonight with whole wheat crust, spinach, onion, garlic, mushroom, feta, and plenty garlic parmesan goodness. I wasn't sure how it was going to turn out, but I was pretty impressed with the results. Next time, though, I think I will try to saute the spinach and garlic a little before adding them to the crust and baking.  The best part, though, is that I have plenty of leftovers for lunches and dinners. Yum!

pre-baking

 -- I'm watching House Hunters International (just a little research for the day that Dan and I can afford to move to Fiji) and this couple is relocating their SIX KIDS from Detroit to Normandy, France. Brave or crazy? I hope they pick the former church convent.
 -- The last several nights, I have been completely wiped by 10:00. Despite all my running, I basically sit all day at work... since when is that exhausting? I have no idea how I made it through 4 years of college, when 1:00 was an early bedtime.
 -- Speaking of college, boy do I miss it these days. Especially with Dan gone, I really miss being just minutes away from all of my friends, awesome places to eat, beautiful streets to run, and lots of places to just hang out outside and enjoy the weather as it turns the corner towards fall. I even mentioned to Dan that I kind of miss the classes -- there are days that I'd much rather sit through an interesting lecture and spend hours reading than go to work. A sign that I'm ready to go back to school? I sure hope so....
Happy almost-Thursday, everyone!

   Love,

    Meg

Monday... Monday... Monday

Goodness, is there an echo in here? Must be all that space in here where there should be writing...

Unfortunately, I've had good reason to be away from the internet recently: without going into too much detail, Dan's older brother was wounded in combat overseas last week. It's been a frightening few days, with some bad reports and (thankfully) lots of good updates, but as of yesterday he is finally back in the states. Dan's parents' are with him and now begins a long and tough road to recovery. He is a strong guy thought and in the end, he's very lucky to have his life, his limbs, and a good support system.

Other than this entirely unwelcome excitement, life has been otherwise calm. Poor Toby seems to be feeling better, the kitchen sink is full of dishes, I have about 16 loads of laundry to do... typical. I was able to squeeze in a pretty good long run Saturday morning before the sidewalks turned into molten lava (ie right around the crack of dawn), and made the excellent decision to end at my very favorite place. Heaven had better provide iced coffee daily, otherwise I'm not going.

I apologize for being so short and sweet today, but my to-do list is glaring at me from where it has been banished on the corner of my desk, and before long it may grow legs and little fangs and aggressively demand attention. After this half-sad, half-boring post, I promise to return only when I have something happy to share -- which I hope will be soon! Until then, I'll be catching up on all of your blogs... and maybe some sleep. Happy Monday!

  Love,

    Meg