The Post In Which I Sound Morbidly Depressed, But Really I'm Perfectly Fine

1.  I hate basketball.  I don't even like to watch my own children play basketball, let alone a bunch of smelly sweaty young twenty-somethings that I don't know and who hog my television time.  I actually think that I might be a basketball bigot of sorts.  Because I have no problem when other sporting events finagle their way into my PrimeTime viewing slots...but basketball?  Well, March Madness takes me to my mad ugly place.

2.  But, because I do enjoy Cinderella stories and because I don't live under a rock, I'll say GO BUTLER!
But I'm still not happy about it.

3.  I haven't done our taxes yet.  I'm thinking I should probably get right on that.  But the only consolation I have to my heavy-duty procrastination is that Kirk and I will just be spending our refund check while the rest of you folks have already kissed yours goodbye. 

4.  Nope.  Nevermind.  Not much of a consolation.  Because I still have to do them and you're already finished.  Blech.

5.  I slipped the gym my sanity as I slipped them a check for the Boot Camp that starts this evening.  Now I'm wondering why exactly I felt like it was a good idea for me to actually pay money for two trainers to stand over me and inform me of what I already know:  "You can't do a push-up."  "You can't do a sit-up."  "You can't run worth a flip." 

6.  I'm terrified of #5.  Like going to puke in the middle of the field terrified.  Good times.

7.  Last night our family watched Discovery's new series Life.  Have you seen it?  Aside from all the typical "the world's been around for 345,675,934,205,175,485 years" and "we all come from plankton" snippets, the show is actually very very good.  Although I am rethinking letting the boys watch it or any other Discovery/Animal Planet show ever ever again.  My whole outlook on those shows changed last night when I was asked what "sperm" was.  Disney Channel anyone?

8.  Rascal Academy declared today an extension of our Spring Break because the head teacher was suffering from a fever.  And the only cure for Spring Fever is a picnic/playdate at the park.  (It's in our school handbook...scout's honor.) 

9.  While out at the park, I as a very forward thinking woman and mother we dabbled in political correctness and tolerance.  The boys were playing around on the play-set and I heard, "Hey, Gay-man, come here."  Say, what?  "Hey, Gay-man!"  My ears doth deceiveth me.  What did he say?  "Hey, Gay-man, come here."  Oh, dear.  Time for an intervention.  So I march over to the play-set and call the culprit down.  "Please don't call your brother that.  It isn't a name that we are going to call people."   "Why?  What's wrong with GaME-man, Mom?" 

10.  Note to self:  Work on enunciation of the letter M.

That's all.