You Know What I Love?

Absolutely nothing about today.

That's a lie...kind of.

You see I once made the mistake of stumbling across this 

and now I feel obligated to find something 

to be thankful about

every stinkin day. 

(This glass half-full stuff is for the birds.)

This half-full glass, however, is not for the birds.

It is for girls like me,

trying desperately to put their big girl panties on

and deal with the blasphemy that is today.

{Sidenote: Blasphemy is a pretty silly word. 

I didn't even know I knew that word till it popped out. Interesting.}

You know what else is also not for the birds...

Fiesta Ranch Deliciousness Dip.

(Okay, so it's really just called Fiesta Ranch Dip,

but the "deliciousness" is implied.)

I could eat that stuff all day, 'errday. 

And actually, I usually do.

One day, I might put the recipe up on this little bloggy-blog.

Although that's doubtful. 

Not because I don't want to share.

But because I don't want you to realize what a terrible cook I actually am.

The dip tastes one trillion times more complicating then it really is.

And I like that. 

It tricks people you see. Into thinking I actually know what I'm doing at this housewife stuff.

Meanwhile, no one sees the 10-foot high pile of laundry/dishes currently sitting in my house.

And the facade continues. Just the way I like it. 

Anywho....

Today is Monday.

Which really says it all.

Mondays are doomed to suck.

However, this one had such potential. 

I was having a pretty good hair day,

and found something semi-cute to wear to school.

And my firsties were suuuuuper sweet today. 

They must have known I was in for it.

I had a doctor's appointment after school today.

The worst part about growing up, by far,

is going to the doctor by yourself.

I don't think I've talked about it much on the blog,

but several months ago I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis.

It's not a big deal, really.

Doctor says there's no visible joint damage, which is good.

And with preventative measures, I should be completely fine.

Unfortunately, preventative measures mean shots every other week.

Which are a big deal, really.

It also means that in the past four-five years,

I've been to lots of different doctors, 

for lots of different things, and I don't like it. 

Especially because I also suffer from a mild case of hypochondria.  

(Shhh...don't tell Robbie I admitted to that. I hate when he's right.)

I'm not allowed to Google medical symptoms. 

My roommate banned me from that years ago.

But, when I go to the doctor, 

I like to be able to have a conversation about whatever's going on.

You're getting paid the BIG bucks.

The least you could do, is spare me five minutes to talk about what ails me.

It may seem irrelevant to you, Doctor ma'am,

but to me, it's a pretty big deal.

I hate being dismissed,

"wam, bam, thank you ma'am"

and left feeling like I got nothing accomplished.

I still have questions, I still might have concerns.
Which is exactly what happened today.

I'd like a little time.

Ugh.

And on top of all this...there's another debate on tonight. 

Haven't we heard enough?

I hope you had a better Monday than me. 

However, things my way are starting to look up.

(Notice that Deliciousness Dip below. Yummm.)

Hugs,

P.S. ABC News is currently doing a report on the dangers of cheerleading. Duh. And you say it's not a real sport? Psh.

P.S.Again. Lance Armstrong, I'm sure you feel like your Monday has been full of blasphemy too. Sorry bout it.