* I’m in my 5th week of my college courses. I’m carrying twelve units instead of sixteen. I’m thinking that was a good move. On my part.
* Scout is in full swing at preschool. We start our morning with a short bus ride to the campus. We hang out for 15 minutes in the morning. School opens. We find her name badge and wash our hands before we start our morning. Then in the afternoon I pick her up after her nap and snack and she’s fully charged to explore the rest of the day. I can’t believe she’s going to be four in three short months. (And one day.)
* Shawn and I have not reconciled. We tried and some past issues became current issues. I’m dealing with a lot of anxiety and upset stomachs. I’m pushing through. I had it out on the phone with him one day, I needed to vent. To him. How he makes me feel. I sort of feel like I’m being rushed through a grieving process. It isn’t fun.
* Rogue turned one year old last week. She weighs in at 60 lbs.
* I’ve lost 50 lbs. total since mid-January. I’m working on 30 more.
* I signed up for my first 5K marathon. I’m both terrified and excited.
* I cast on for a Newsboy Cap (by Pepperberry Knits) in some yummy Sundara Sport.
* I scored a B+ on my first History paper and an A on my Powerpoint presentation.
* Scout will be Belle (from “Beauty and the Beast”) for Halloween. I buckled down and bought a costume. I just don’t have the time or energy lately to break out the sewing machine and get anything productive done.
* In just three days it will be Autumn. (According to my calendar.) The past few days the weather has been warm. But in the morning, the air is crisp and it feels like Autumn is pushing it’s way into season. I hope for the sooner because the heat has me feeling all yucky but the swimming pool is too cool to splash in.
* I saw “Machete” at the movie theaters with friends last night. I came to the realization that Shawn and I will never go out and see a movie together. It’s a little painful to think about.
* On the other hand, I’ve gotten used to having the bed by myself. Making smaller meals. Less leftovers. Less laundry. No hairs on the bathroom sink. No stinky work shirts. No competing with his hobby. No stink work boots. No more financial arguements. No parental arguements. In other words, I’m enjoying the single life to the best of my ability and trying to fous on me. It’s not something I’ve gotten used to because I’ve always been the caregiver. But it does feel awfully good at times. Sometimes.