Painful, I Tell You!

Let's just take a minute to review:

As The Sheep approached her fourth decade on this planet she began to make some changes in her life. Well, first she had a major freak-out/temper tantrum then she began to make some changes.

Food that gave her joy and a reason to live were removed from the diet and replaced with green, leafy stuff.

Beer became taboo. That's beer, people. The Sheep liked beer...alot. Beer made being middle-aged bearable.

Thrice weekly, a routine involving the lifting and putting down of heavy objects and pedaling obsessively to nowhere became a regular thing in the Sheep household.

A Scary Stylist was added to the speed dial in order that the advancing gray could be chemically held in check.

I fought it. I fought it hard.

Today one of my first graders became upset when some older students called him a "little kid." In an effort to put it in perspective, Ms. Sheep pointed out to him that to her, they were also little kids. The first grader's response?

"That's true...you must be what...60?"

Ow.

Let me say it again. Ow.

Quick...let's change the subject before I become too depressed to function and end up curled up on the couch for 6 or 7 months wearing a tin foil hat and talking to imaginary gnomes.

Given this weekend's upcoming Academic Decathalon and the extra knitting time, I am swatching for a new project. I'm thinking of trying something with color blocks as I've never done that before. If it's a simple enough chart, I'm thinking I might be able to pull it off. If not, then I'll just knit another scarf and pretend that was what I meant to do in the first place.

After all...my memory isn't what it was at 40.

SA