Grouchy

I go for my annual checkup tomorrow, but 12 hours before, I can’t eat or drink anything but water. You have no idea how grouchy I am at the idea that I’m going to have to wait ’til 9:40 tomorrow before I can have my first sip of coffee. This morning, I was so hungry after I got to work that I had my 10:00 granola bar at 9:15. This doesn’t bode well for tomorrow. Worse yet, there’s a Dunkin Donuts within steps of my doctor’s office but I’m trying to be good—still training for Broad Street—and I gave up donuts for Lent.

Needless to say, I got nothin’ today. I’m going to try and write, if I can, but I already wrote 2100 words and the Muse needs a nap, but I don’t feel like sitting on the couch, knitting. Yeah, I know: me? Yup, me. Though an episode of Downton Abbey might just tempt me. Not quite the same as watching my hero and heroine banter in the gym, but we’ll see.

Wish me luck. I’m hoping to see some good cholesterol numbers, after a year as a vegetarian. πŸ™‚

There’s also the matter of my oldest turning 18 on Friday. The plans I originally had in mind, don’t seem to be coming together, but it’s possible they’re just postponed. Still, I’m old enough to have an 18 year old kid? My baby… <sniff>