Metamorphosis - My journey to Soccer Mommyhood

Doesn't Metamorphosis sound like the name of a very glittery perfume? A cloying mixture of cotton candy and something "floral" that isn't actually found in nature, housed in a plastic purple bottle bejeweled with pink and blue plastic crystals. It'd probably come with a free Lisa Frank pencil. 

I've decided to express my emotions via pictures [haha myspace-style...or was it livejournal?]. This is how I am feeling about not being in Germany yet:

Frustrated

jipped

i don't know what this emotion is, but i think i am feeling it

I am so aggravated and grumpy and bummed, and I don't understand why things are the way they are right now, but all I can say is I trust God. I know that I know that I know that He has plans for my summer, even though right now things are looking bleak. All things work for the good...(Romans 8:28).

I spent most of my day in my jammies on the couch [hats off to you, Bruno Mars], and then I felt a little [a lot] pathetic, so I tried to clean a bit, and then I went and worked out, and I wrote some letters and tried to pretend to be a big kid. Who does responsible things.

It's kind of like this. I'm in the self-congratulatory phase. And tomorrow all the things need to be done. Shopping for a camera, more cleaning, unpacking stuff, working out.

I figure that as long as I am temporarily unemployed and avoiding shopping for business casual clothing, I might as well get my bippy in shape. And the rest of me. I haven't worked out for the past two month, but I had really good reasons: first I was busy finishing/starting semester projects, then [not] beasting finals, then recuperating from finals [that's valid].  um.

So I went and got my sweat on today. I look incrediGross when I work out. Kind of like this, but generally worse:

Every time I get off a machine, I'm dripping with sweat, and I guess I stink, and I start to get really nervous and self-conscious and apologetic.

I wish I had some succinct means of apologizing to everyone in the gym, maybe something like this?

a much-needed t-shirt

But then would people think I'm bragging? Like - ooh la la, look how hardcore I am. I sweat and you get to swim in the puddles. I'm pretty sure that's what Chuck Norris says when he works out.

Tomorrow I've decided to get up before 11am and get my group work-out on at a cardio karate/judochopping/ninja arts class or something. Oh, and a spin class.

A spin class. Between my group workouts and my CR-V and my highlights [I got my hair dyed redder again, and the lady went crazy with the highlights], I think I'm morphing into a soccer mom.

If I just had some Sheryl Crow on my workout playlist, a tennis skirt for my workouts, and an extensive George Clooney movie collection, I'd be a perfect soccer mammy. Except I don't have kidlings. I can work around that.

OH - ps, I decided I'm not a fan of the words post. After about three unrelated quotes on a page, I get bored and decide to go do something else [online boggle]. Assuming you operate even remotely similarly, you probably didn't even read that whole post, did you?

I don't blame you. I'll pass on verses and quotes some other way.

-Soccer-Mom bRob