My dog, Mr. Bertz
I have what I would like to call a healthy temper. . . a very healthy temper. Healthy, like that belligerent, old, Irish drunk who just won't leave the bar, healthy. It often got me in hot water when I was younger, but now that I can control it better, it mostly just leaves me feeling terrible when I lose it. So from here on out I am going to make a conscious effort not to yell. No more yelling at the kids to go to bed from the other room. No more deciding to blame my horrible day on my lazy old dog who keeps walking under my feet, because tripping over him happened to be the last straw. Just no more yelling.
The last two days have gone outstanding if you ignore the fact I am catching the boys' cold from this weekend. I have been able to wake up and work out (which feels amazing) and I have been making the effort in dressing that I wanted to. Slacking a bit in keeping up with the house but, meh, doing what I can.
Here is the outfit for Wednesday:
And here is today's:
The current issue I am trying to address is that I need something to do. I really only have a legitimate reason to leave the house (aside from the boy's baseball practice) once a week or so when I need to go shopping. It is lonely and I think it is time to take on a class/hobby/gym; really anything that will get me out of the house. Most of my brain power has been spent trying to figure out what to do with myself until I start school in the fall.