or you can get with that

It has been a great weekend.

I never thought I would have anything against the state of Pennsylvania. That is, until Friday. We ventured out to Cedar Park to watch the Texas Stars battle the Hershey Bears (who do not have chocolate-y brown uniforms, much to my dismay) in game five of the Calder Cup finals. I have grown up in a hockey household, which seem few and far between in the great state of Texas. I've learned to appreciate the slap of stick to puck, the look of freshly-zambonied ice, and the satisfaction that comes from watching two grown men in padding try and beat the living crap out of each other. I would like to say that my love of hockey transcends my dislike for small children whacking inflatable clappers together fourteen inches from my ear, but unfortunately, it hasn't quite come to that, although two dollar plastic cups of beer and dollar foil-wrapped-and-nothing-natural-about-them-but-still-terribly-terribly-delicious hot dogs helped to dull the pain immensely. The Stars lost in overtime--very disappointing--but it was already an hour and a half past my bedtime for a work-night, and we still had to navigate our way back to our comfort-zone of



I worked all day Saturday and then high-tailed it to Lakeway with Jimmy for movie night with the Normans. After much debate, we settled on watching Hook, one of my all-time favorite childhood movies. I lasted just long enough to eat myself sick on popcorn and Mike 'n Ikes before falling asleep on Jimmy's shoulder for most of the movie. Of the many traits I've inherited from my mother, not being able to make it through a movie past eight o clock is one of the most prevalent.

And this morning I awoke with a blazing sugar hangover, made infinitely better and then ten times worse by hamburgers for lunch from Five Guys. Jimmy joined with me in a collective "eh" and shrug for Five Guys. If we're going to spend nearly twenty dollars on hamburgers and fries, I'd rather hit up Huts or Phil's Icehouse. Just sayin'.

But everything was cured with the Sunday Afternoon Nap.

Why is it that even after sleeping in this morning, and although the sun was bright and the world looked scrubbed clean after the last few days full of the threat of rain and drear, that I can spend Sunday feeling so incredibly tired?

I have found that one of the great pleasures in my life is the utter joy of the nap. I feel I have perfected the art of the afternoon nap, excelling on those occurring on Sunday afternoons. There is something so blissful about escaping to a dark, cold bedroom on a scorching, humid day, and falling into the peacefulness of oblivion for a few hours. Bonus points for reading a good book or the latest issue of Real Simple before succumbing to the inevitable.

And then somehow, even after several hours of deepdarksleep in the afternoon, I still find myself completely exhausted at the end of the day, knowing that I have work in the morning and that it is Monday. But, by God's grace, I will make it through another start of the week in the ED unscathed, and I will come home to find that Jimmy has made it through the start of his week unharmed as well, and we will venture together into the blur of Tuesday and Wednesday and then the weekend is here again before we know it.

Oh, and in closing, here are some lovely shots of Jimmy and I looking so freakin' intense, RAWR! at Crossfit on Friday. Not pictured, the twenty seconds later when Katie wimps out and pulls her back. Collective sigh.




Yeah, that's right.