* My back and foot continue to make life less fun than it could be...my back has gotten worse again after recovering almost completely (the hell, back?), and Paul is troublesome still even though the new shoes are a huge improvement. I added a pair of gel insoles to them this morning, which cause my right foot to occasionally make the type of moistly squelchy sound you'd expect to hear on a blooper roll from a porn film. I am not a fan of that sound, although the inserts themselves are pretty comfortable.
* The contrast between my mood today (The Bastard is off, and it was just me and the person who trained me working today; we make a good team and The Trainer's lack of Bastardry is delightful) after work and yesterday prompted Hotter to inform me that I need to not let The Bastard get to me. "Because then you bring your bad mood home with you. LEAVE WORK AT WORK." I sarcastically said I supposed he'd been GREAT at that (Hotter is a complainer by nature and used to have quite a temper so I was banking on him having sucked at it). He said he had, actually, mostly because he would drink heavily each night after work (Hotter used to be a totally different person before his transplants and stroke, and not necessarily one I would have liked). So I'm still open to input on how better to relax (besides keep upping my workouts--I'm already over the fifty-mile mark per week and don't think I can go up any further without it being ridiculous how long I spend at the gym each day and/or making my clothes fit funny--as it is I could wear a 6 in the waist but am sticking with an 8 because of my thighs) (I also do yoga two to four times per week, just throwing that out there as something I'm already doing).
* GROCERIES! Man oh man, y'all, I used to HATE the grocery store, because I was constantly counting in my head, weighing whether to get this or this, if I buy that x will be happy but y won't eat it and then what, etc. Now I can get something everyone will eat, and buy things just because they look good and I think we might like to try them. Few things make me happier than bringing home a new kind of fruit or cheese for the boys to try. There is nothing like cutting open a perfect ripe apricot, pulling the pit out of it, and placing one half in each of Little Child's wee dimpled paws and seeing his face light up when he tastes it. We've discovered that everyone likes apricots, honeyloupes, and plums. Little Child and Big Child like feta, but only the plain kind; Big Child enjoys the herb-and-oil kind from the olive bar as much as I do but Little Child won't touch the stuff. Middle Child shares my love of all things spicy (Little Child won't touch spicy and Big Child will, but only up to a point). Hotter remains a slut for fancy coffee. Life is good.