new directions
i'm starting to think i may need to enhance my blogging resume with some new skills. professional writers (TGK, robo-stu, playboy joel) and graphic artists (rett, flabbyironman, mr. iron wil) are starting to dominate this market! besides, if this pope gig doesn't pan out, i'll need something to fall back on. that, and with the paternity payments which i'm sure britney is going to make me pay, i could use the extra income.
on to other things... i didn't get out to run last nite, as it became My Parents Are Coming In Tomorrow So We Have To Run Around Like Headless Chickens And Clean The Whole House night. it was after midnight(and two hours after soccermom fell asleep, i might add...) when i finished. i think it was actually a harder workout than the 4-mile run i was going to do.
anyway, with the family in town this weekend, i'm not sure what i'll be able to accomplish workout-wise. we'll see...
posted by soccerdad @ 8:40 AM
5 comments
5 Comments:
Just make sure you complete the workouts that I do whenever family is in town:
Eat like a swine.
Lay around complaining that you ate too much.
Don't do anything that you can make your nieces, nephews or own kids do, so you don't have to get off of the couch.
This should work out fine and you should have an extra 5 or 10 pounds to lose by the time they leave...
OH!! It's a trap! Don't listen to him, look at the trouncing FM gave Rett on his blog for CMSing out.
It's a set up!
Haha! Your blogumé is fine, it needs no sprucing up. Don't hate the salamander simply because he both handsome and talented!
Try to get something done, you can always squeeze in a jog!
why clean your house? do what i do, hire an ill-leagal to clean for you...best $50 you will ever spend. she has keys lets herself in and locks up when she's done. once a week does it!
My in laws are coming next week for ten days. For better or worse, their better my worse, they don't like me at all. AT ALL! So for me I get a long leash on extra training and work from Mistress.
How bad is it, you think? My f-i-l has not spoken more than a total of 1,000 words to me in ten years. The day our only son was born (oh yes m-i-l insisted on being in the room), f-i-l looked at me and said, "Well I guess I have to accept you slept with my daughter." no joke.
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