No Pictures

I shall post no new pictures.

Because my camera is in Europe and Asia for a while.

Peter is using it to document his travels with Paul.

They are currently flying over the Atlantic Ocean, headed to Germany for an eleven hour layover, then on to... a city in Asia.

Paul and Peter are both excited about their eleven hours in Germany.  They plan to leave the airport and see some sites, possibly verifying the excellence of German pretzels and beer.  I don't know if Peter will realize that they get in to Germany at 2 AM our time.

But enough about them.  They're not even here.

I need you to know that I worked out tonight.  If I don't tell you then no one will know and it will have been wasted time, right?

Usually, I exercise in the morning.  And it goes something like this...

Paul - "Stacey, are you getting up to exercise?"

Me - no answer because he just woke me up and I want to stay wrapped up in my new ultra cozy flannel sheets.

Paul - "I can do this the hard way," as he turns on the computer and loads up my workout video.

Me - thinking to myself - I don't like the hard way, I'll get up.

And then I work out while he gets Peter ready for school.

Occasionally Charlie sneaks away from Paul's watch and comes and sits on me if I'm on the ground, or hugs my leg if I'm standing up.  And I call for help while Charlie giggles and Reuben thinks about joining him.

So, I realized that if I am going to work out while Paul is gone I'm going to have to do it at night after the boys are in bed.

I just want to say:  DONE.  I did it.  And I have no witnesses.

I even gave up reading that new Amish novel I mentioned a few days ago.  It came in at the library today.  I checked out book one too so I could remember everything that book two is going to reference.  So I'll be saying good night to you soon.

But first, you should also know that I may or may not have something impaled in my tonsils.

Thank you, Steve, for that lovely story you told us on Sunday about your friend and the fish bone that got stuck in her tonsils.

Due to my psychosomatic tendencies, I now am wondering if I need to take myself to the Urgent Care place.

Something got stuck in my throat last night.

I had one of those choking moments when I couldn't breathe and I didn't know if it was better to cough or just try to swallow really hard.

Trying to cough up the stuckness scared me, so I opted for swallowing.

And now it feels like whatever is stuck is hanging over the little flap between my breathing tube and my eating tube.

I doubt that's possible, but that's what it feels like.

Or maybe this is what having an impaled tonsil feels like.

I haven't died from lack of oxygen yet.

But you might check in on me over the next few days.  Will Reuben know what to do if I collapse in an unconscious manner?

I have a lot of food in the fridge, so they won't starve.

But changing Charlie's diaper could be interesting.

And by 'interesting' I mean a mess.

Okay.

Cozy, warm, entire-bed-to-myself, I-can-sleep-in-an-L-if-I-want-to, here I come.