I’m depressed that I’m depressed about being depressed… and I need a cookie

Hubby:  How as the Zoom with the ladies?


Hubby: That bad?

Me: No it was good, they’re good, well not good, they’re crappy cause we’re all crappy, but they’re like awesome about it.  UUUUGGGHHHHHHH!

Hubby: … so that’s good?

Me: NO… ya… I mean they have it so much harder then me, kids, home schooling, mortgages, no jobs and they’re like “Hey, just one day at a time” and ” At least we’re healthy” and ” what can we do to help the awfulness that is our society right now” and they’re just so great. UUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!

Hubby:… how dare they?

Me: And then look at me, I’m fine, I don’t have to share my space with small children… except you

Hubby: hurtful

Me: Plus we’re solid work wise and home wise and everything!!! But still I have to insult you just so you’ll physically push me out of the bed each morning for me to be able to face the day.

Hubby: ya the name calling isn’t necessary for me to do that, I’m more then happy to kick you out of bed

Me: I suck

Hubby: you’re awesome

Me: I’ve gained 15 pounds in cookie abuse, YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO STOP ME FROM COOKIE PITY PARTIES!!

Hubby:  I WILL! I promise… although I like to have more to hug

Me: it’s not just that, I haven’t showered in like 2 weeks

Hubby: ya about that

Me: …

Hubby: you’re so pretty

Me: UUUUUUGGGGHHHHHHH, you’re so nice

Hubby: sorry

Me: no I love you, you’re amazing, everyone’s amazing, I need to be amazing… I’M GOING TO BE AMAZING…   can I have a cookie

Hubby: ya here you go



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The internal monologue with myself when running with my dog…

We got this let’s RUN… oh… pee break first, sure okay do your thing

What… but you just peed!


Is it possible for a dog to have a bladder infection, I should Google that.

I swear to god if you sniff one more bush


Okay one more quick pee, but seriously this is the last one

Should I just stop running? I mean what’s the point anymore, this has been like a 20 minute mile

This is it, time for serious running

Oh sweet Jesus where did this hill come from

I taste blood

Are my lungs bleeding… IS THAT POSSIBLE

Ya it’s cool buddy we can stop to pee, I don’t need to stop, but I’ll stop for you

Oh god when will this torture end

No, no it’s okay, I’m good, I’m getting my second wind, I could run forever


Now to crawl home, I mean do our cool down walk home

Seriously you’re not evening peeing anymore, you’re just lifting your leg

Fine, you be you dog, but I’m definitely Googling dog bladder infections when we get home… and bleeding lungs.



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It’s a fine line between funny and I’m gonna kill you…

Me: Babe, I can’t find my cell phone, would you call me!?

Hubby: Mona!!

Me: ha ha

Hubby: MONA!!

Me: You’re the absolute worst


Me: I hate you so… oh wait, I found it!

Hubby: See!?!? It worked!!

Me: I repeat, the absolute worst.


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I’m running and nothings chasing me… we live in F’d up times.

So my daily activity of couch eating and bathtub drinking has caused some dire effects.

During my last ladies virtual HH some evil bastard suggested we all put on a pair of our favorite jeans. We did laughing, being obtuse and unaware of the devils true plan.

The screams and anguished cries of “BUT THESE ARE MY FAT PANTS, THEY ALWAYS FIT!!”, was horrifying… but a bit of an eye opener.

SO now we’re doing a 30 day 2 mile run challenge… running… for no other reason then for the “joy” of it… these are messed up times my friends.

I’m on day two and a 12 minute mile runner, which apparently earns you, “ahh don’t worry sweetie, you’ll see an improvement soon”, comments.  Which is annoying cause I thought that was pretty good!

The only perk of this is discovering my new life coach in the form of my Runkeeper app audio cues.

I selected “Your Conscience” to give me time/distance updates and inspirational comments.  Some of my favorite:

“You run like a gazelle across the great plains of Africa”

“After you finish you can sit on a couch and drink a whole bottle of wine… just a joke… not really.”

“You’re running as fast as a hippopotamus… and they run fast, seriously!

fast like hippo

Actual photo of me running… you’re welcome.






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In our house you’re no longer allowed to be the judge of judging how funny you judge others…

Hubby: (typing at his laptop) mumble.. mumble..  I’m so funny  mumble.. mumble..

Me: I’m sorry, but did you just say YOU’RE so funny?

Hubby:  .. ya..

Me: Um, I’ll be the judge of that! What did you type that you think was SO funny?

Hubby: No! I don’t need you to judge me!  I CAN JUDGE MYSELF!!

Me: *snicker*

Hubby: See… I’m funny.

Well played



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Talking to myself always makes me feel like a dumbass

Me: I have to do something different, over a month of being home is messing with my mind.

Myself: Jesus, don’t be so dramatic you’re fine.

Me: Am I?!? Cause I’m pretty sure scientist say when the voices in your head start replying to you it means you’re losing it.

Myself: What scientist?

Me: You know the ones that do studies and write stuff in medical journals.

Myself: And you know this cause you’ve read a medical journal… name the journal.

Me: … well… maybe I heard it in the news or something… or maybe someone mentioned it to me once..

Myself: Wow, can’t fight those amazing references.

Me: You’re such an ass.

Myself: Takes one to know one!

Me: Mature! F you whatever, I need to start doing something new to get me out of this mind slump. Maybe I’ll do one of those writing challenges, like 30 stories in 30 days.  I’ve always wanted to do something like that.

Myself: Don’t you have a blog?

Me: …well ya… but I haven’t really… I mean I’ve wanted to… but I don’t really have the time to… well that is… you suck.

Myself: 😉

Per Hubby I was doing this… but he’s used to it…

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The untouched bottle

Before my mother passed away she told my dad there was a certain bottle of wine in the cellar, she had bought it a long time ago and was aging for a special moment, and she wanted him to give it to me after she was gone.  Her instructions were, I was to drink it when I was really happy about something.

My mother has been gone for almost 2 years and that bottle remains untouched.

Now this isn’t to say I haven’t been happy in the last 2 years.  Sure, I’ve been happy, maybe even really happy.  But to drink that bottle, in my mind, meant I was saying, “ok mom, I’m good, I’ve gotten through the ache of missing you, and I can drink this with absolutely no sadness in my heart”.

So it stayed in my wine storage, through 2 moves, some really great girl trips, a job raise, and several anniversaries and holidays, untouched… until.

I received a group text from my cousin Jen, her father was my mom’s brother.  Uncle Joe and my mom were tight, best buds, confidantes. And because sometimes the world just sucks, he died 3 years before my mom, cancer.

Jen: I’m doing a genetic cancer test and I need help verifying all the cancers we’ve had in our family

Me: All of them, we’ve had all of them

Rose: Sadly this seems accurate

Helen: Jen good for you, what brought this on??

Jen: I’m turning 50 in November and I need to know if I’m going to make 60

Me: WTF 50!?!?

Rose: What are you doing for it?!?

Jen: Nothing really, this test?

Helen: ooohh hell no, ladies I’m thinking cousins weekend!

So as is the way, a genetic cancer test group text became a cousins weekend celebration. Everyone flew into Seattle, we ferried out to a cottage on an island, and ate, told stories, remembered, cried, laughed, danced, and… drank.

I had brought the bottle, thinking if there was ever a moment, this would have to be it, right?

I sat in the kitchen with the bottle on the counter, and the opener in my hand, and just waited.

Jen: you going to open that

Me: I want to…

Jen: you know what today is

Me: your birthday

Jen: yep, and it’s the 5 year anniversary of my dad’s death

Me: oh god Jen, on your birthday

Jen: I know, I wasn’t there, but you know who was… your mom, she was there for him, and me afterwards, so I’m here for you

Me: I think she’d like us to drink to that

Jen: I think she would

The bottle

…sometimes the moment finds you…

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