Random-As-Shit Thursday Thoughts
Long before I started this blog, I had a baking blog. SURPRISE! If I could do anything when I grow up (forget for a moment that I’m 30, married, and spend the majority of my nights knitting as I watch Golden Girls reruns like a crotchety old woman) besides writing, I would be a chef/baker. I’ve thought about revisiting the old blog a lot lately, but… I have a serious problem. What the hell do I do with all the shit I make? I can’t eat all that sugar. I don’t understand how people who are baking things three times a week at home avoid weighing 600 pounds? Where does it go? Who can I pawn stuff off to? WHAT DO I DO?
I’ve made a dire mistake. I offered my brother-in-law and his family of five to stay in our house for a few weeks. They are moving out of a rental house and buying one, but for some reason the bank has put a short delay on the loan process. I was in a good mood and trying to be extra kind for a change, but the second I got home the panic set in. What did I get myself into? As someone with pretty severe social anxiety, having five extra people in my house 24/7 is the stuff of nightmares. How am I going to avoid them without seeming rude? *Deep breath* 32 days left until we are invaded by messy children and hell rains down on the Sheep household. Pray for us.
I would rather have my nipples bit by ravenous mosquitoes than go to the gym, but I’ve been making a concentrated effort lately because I wanted to kick off February strong. Now, to preface this story, I have to let y’all know I have a severe bathroom phobia. When you throw in the ‘gym’ factor – where every ass that touches the seat is smelly and covered in sweat – it gets a thousand times worse. I had to pee so badly yesterday, but I thought it would be smarter to hold it. Well, that was until I got to the squat machine and peed myself a little. Yep, I peed myself. In public. Like a three-year-old who didn’t want to use the potty. For shame.