Today I am covered in glitter.

Today I am covered in car grease.

Today my knees are covered in gnarly treadmill burns.

Craig’s car wouldn’t start again this morning.  For reasons unbeknownst to me, his car only refuses to start when he’s not here.  Why is that?  It was the battery again.  In August I paid the Honda dealer $127 for them to tell me the battery cables were loose.  Because I’m not a fan of paying $127 for something as ridiculous as loose battery cables, I checked the battery cables myself and discovered that they’re not loose whatsoever.  However, the battery was still very much dead, so I pulled my car up beside it, got out my trusty dusty jumper cables and jumped the dead battery.  All I can say is thank goodness for the diagram on the back of the jumper cable package to help me figure out which clip goes where.  I’m a visual learner.

Anyway, Craig’s car started right up and acted as if nothing was wrong at all.  However, if the car chooses keep losing battery power, my neighbors might find me beating that old Civic with a broom stick.  And that’s not a joke.

Forgive me, please; I’m in a mood today.

Tripping on a moving treadmill will do that to a person.  I finished my run this morning, pressed the off button (or so I thought), hopped off the machine and fetched a towel to wipe it down.  As I stepped up on to the treadmill to clean it, I fell.  Because the machine was still on. Which begs the question:  how did I get off of the treadmill and not notice it was still moving? I mean, really?  How did I not notice?   I fell on my knees and caught myself with my inner arm.  Nothing but grace and class, I tell you.  Thankfully there weren’t a ton of people around to witness my clutziness, because that would have been far, FAR worse than the stinging burns I now have on my knees.  It’s kind of kick-ass rad in a way, don’t you think?  I mean, it would be much more kick-ass and rad if I had fallen outside on a run and not on a treadmill.  But still, you have to take what you can get, right?

My knees are scuffed up; Craig’s car is stupid; I’m covered in glitter.

Why are Christmas decorations so glittery these days?  I have glitter every where.  Also, what is up with all the pink and purple decorations I see in the stores?  Call me a purist, but Christmas tree ornaments  should not be predominantly pink and purple.  It’s just wrong.  Wrong, wrong, wrong.

Well aren’t I filled with holiday cheer and good will to men today?


2 responses

  1. Ouch! I actually said “ouch” out loud when I read about your fall.

    As for the car, doesn’t stuff like that always happen when the guys are deployed?! Sounds like you took care of it lickety-split! And I’m a visual learner, too.*

    • Yes, ouch is the right word. Every time Craig goes away the computer blows up and his car won’t start. I’ve messed with his car battery four times already. He was home for five months in between deployments and that stupid car drove like a charm. Go figure.


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