No, Henrietta Lacks is not really kicking my butt.
Seriously, how could she? Her cells may be immortal, but, well, hey: MLK and Jesus did have a fight in my living room yesterday, so anything is now possible.
It’s hard being in third grade again working on projects. And playing video games while researching for the presentation board. And watching American Idol paying close attention to how much Ellen DeGeneres has aged since the last time you noticed 15 years ago. Watching the baby. Counting down the days until puppy training boot camp when the dog will be gone from you for two entire weeks. T-5 days. As an eight-year-old, you are witness to a full life.
Ehren is getting promoted to the toddler room two months early, and this is just like the time his momma skipped fourth grade on her way to her current trajectory of seven jobs in ten years. Writin’ our own ticket as we board the Super Train, baby. Eat our Heisman Trophy-winning Rhodes Scholar dust.
Ooh, your dust- It’s all champion-like and way better than pixie dust, I’m betting:)
The taste and texture of cocoa powder with the zing of PCP-laced cocaine.
Feels like some positive momentum around here. Hope the commute is getting tolerable.
I didn’t even turn the radio on this morning, so I listened to the mouse living under the back seat of the car rummage for breakfast.
Quiet can be nice. I’d be plowing through podcasts of This American Life.
Wow. I am blown away by the perfection in that suggestion. Downloading tonight!
Podcasts for commutes is the only way to travel alone.
I’ve been listening to some ridiculous comedy/improv podcasts, too. Check out The Onion, The Mustache Rangers, and The Brave New Workshop. All good reminders for how to take things less seriously.
The Mustache Rangers. Heh. I’m already giggling. Thanks!