I've had a pretty o.k. week. I've been catching up with the friends I've ignored for the last few months (Hi! Remember me? We used to be friends?) and also doing laundry and ironing - oh, the joy of wearing clothes without wrinkles. I am not a wash and wear gal. I have come to terms with the fact that I like my clothing pressed, thanksverymuch. I hate wearing t-shirts and, ugh, jeans. Blech. I will wear them, but I'm not happy about it. I need pressed cotton. STAT.
Anyway, I've been doing that stuff and I saw my therapist (still crazy!) and I'm on the path of finding cool knitting patterns (I think I want a shawl. or a blanket. Or something to knit that is long and warm since it's going to be SO FUCKING HOT in the summer) and some podcasts to learn languages while I have the 40 minute one-way commute to and from work this summer. I was debating an audiobook, but I tend to phase out and miss big chunks of the story (what, exactly, happens in The Scarlet Letter again?).
I've been doing yoga pretty regularly for the past 3 or 4 weeks. I was using a towel, because I am too cheap when it comes to purchasing things for myself to buy a mat. On Sunday night, when the husband (who has been working a ton) was on his way home from work, he heard on the radio something about Mother's Day, and thought, "Shit. Is it Mother's Day? It's Sunday. I think it is." He stopped at Meijer and bought me a yoga mat, which I found the next morning when I got up to exercise. Very nice, and a week early! Then I realized I have to do something for our mothers, and am not so thrilled. I hate going card shopping. I think I'll just get the "You're the best mom ever" sappy cards and be done with it.
I've also been to 2 of the girl's choir concerts the past 2 weekends and there is another one this weekend. There is no need for this many concerts. Even the girl said, "You guys don't have to come to this one. It's all the same songs." For a split second, I almost said o.k., but instead went with, "Of course, I'm coming! I'm your mom! It's my job to come to these things." Which may not be a ringing endorsement, but hell, I'm showing up. Right? And this time I hope I don't end up laughing so hard from playing hangman with my sister, the husband and random lady that I have to leave the concert because I'm snorting.