I swear I had a point...an idea...for a blog post this morning.And it was a good one. I swear. Before I knocked myself senseless, anyway.
I had planned on writing about how I finally reached the end of my Weight Loss Free Pass. How after 12 weeks and 15 pounds or so of my ass happily and magically morphing into the smallest version of itself it's been since before I had a child. How all of it happened with major dietary changes but not a lick of exercise (well kind of, but not really.) And how I got on the scale this morning and depending on exactly where I placed myself on the scale and how long I managed to hold my breath for I either lost .2 pounds or or gained 1.
So it's over. The Pauline Goes Gluten-free and Dairy-free and Sugar-Free because it's all Clean-Eating Anyway Diet and Magically Wishes 15 Pounds of Muffin Top Without Breaking a Sweat Experiment is officially over. I start working out tomorrow. I break out the Zumba again. The leashes for the dogs and regular walks. The Just Dance on the Wii.
I was going to write about all of that.
Then I threw some trash in the bathroom garbage can and turned too quickly and punched my jaw with the door frame.
Things have been a little hazy since then. I remember The Husband simultaneously laughing his ass off while figuring out a way to give himself an alibi (considering he was two rooms away when it happened and well, it wasn't gonna look good either way.) But I've got a hell of a headache, my jaw feels like I um, hit a wall with it, and I think I need to get to bed soon. So instead of writing a blog post tonight, I think I'll go practice remembering my name and reciting the year.
It's 1986, right?
Wait...what the hell's a blog?