An exercise in sloth, more like...

I have a dreadful confession, which will come as no surprise to anyone who actually knows me...but drat! It's so hard to say out loud.

I am completely non-functional without my husband. I don't know how it is that I got to this point because surely I would have been mortified and put a stop to it had I been aware of it! Right?? I can't move from A to B without asking him where he put my stupid thingy...I have no idea how much we have in our accounts until he tells me to cool it with the spur of the moment drugstore sprees...I would be halfway into collections by now if he didn't know when to pay That Outrageous AmEx Bill. It's gotten to the point where every time I open my mouth to say "Hey, where's my..." he just cuts me off with "Did you LOOK for it??" The latest in my sordid tale of dependency is that I am making him wake me up to go to the gym now. Because an alarm clock just wouldn't work, now would it? No, because I'd just ignore the stupid thing. I ignore Josh, too, but he's supposed to try a few times! He also has coffee ready for me too because there's no way I'm doing anything without it at the crack of dawn. Anyway, long story short, the process malfunctioned this morning and somehow I woke up at 6:30. And then it was just too depressing to work out! It's all raining and grey out and no one would haved noticed my post-workout fabulousness anyway. Bah. Looks like I have a few more weeks of hiding under baggy clothes anyways, judging from the hideousness of the elements.

Things have been more or less tolerable since my return from Houston, although I did have to work on Good Friday. *grumble grumble* But in happy, happy news, we're taking a much needed vacation to California! Northern, of course, so it's not exactly bikini weather (as if I'd be caught dead in one anyway), but it's San Francisco! And wine country! We're doing the whole cheesy tourist schtick, including a renting a convertible and riding bikes over the rolling hills of Sonoma. It'll probably be way too cold to put the top down, and we'll be far too drunk to bike, but dammit, we'll have done it. I've never even been out to the West Coast. Isn't that obscene?? I'm seekritly hoping Josh falls in love with it and insists we move out there. :)