Sunday Truths

Truth # 1:

Possible over-share, but incredibly accurate image. I refused to sleep in any form of pajama bottoms until I was… 11? 12? I was known to lounge around my college dorm room (or my friends’) so long post- shower in a towel/bathrobe my hair was dry before I got dressed. Something about a waistband interferes with my ability to relax.

Truth # 2:

Orange juice is GLORIOUS. I think I already knew that, but I have fallen completely out of the habit of buying it. It’s like drinking happiness. I know a lot of that happiness comes from sugar, but mix ½ a glass of OJ with ½ a glass of sparkling water and I am a very happy girl. (Fact 2a- people have started to ask if I'm Baptisit or pregnant because I'm constantly ordering sparkling water at resaurants. No and NO, I just love sparkling water. It's so much more special than regular water.)

Truth # 3:

I may have some OCD tendencies. We have been missing one pillow case from a particular set of sheets since we moved in July and it is driving me BATTY. To the point that I try to avoid using that set. I thought my need for matching pairs was limited to shoes and bedclothes, then I popped into the grocery store today for a few things. Watching the belt go by, I saw two cans of black beans, 2 cans of pinto beans, 2 cans of stew, and 2 frozen vegetable pies. I don't think I've ever bought only one bar of dark chocolate. We can say it's a 'one for me, one for you' situation, but let's be honest. I'm really just making there are enough rations until the next time I go to the store.

Truth #4:

Not some super deep thought, just a fact. Sure we all have our limits, but so so many of those limits are in our heads. Since I first learned the distance of a marathon, I proudly declared that anything or anyone who wanted to chase me for 26.2 miles wins. No way on Earth was I intended or capable of moving forward without wheels for that distance. Then I started hanging out with this crazy group of folks who like to do marathons and... bam. Two done. No wheels involved. I thought for a long time my limit was 1 mile (evidence: the beloved annual mile run in gym class). Then I thought my limit was 1 hour of running. Nudged that to 13.1 miles, and here I sit. Is 26.2 my limit? Probably not. Are we going to test that? I'll get back to you on that.

Truth # 5:

Buster likes body heat. This is my lap (and evidence that, despite truth # 1, I do (typically) adhere to social protocol and wear pants. In case you're wondering, no. His back is not level and is incredibly precarious typing on a computer balanced on a dog's back.