Truant

I’m supposed to be studying.  One more chapter of statistics, one more quiz, one more test.  But it’s 8:30, I had a long day and a longer commute, and I just read the same paragraph (about goodness of fit) three times without anything other than that one phrase (and something about a distribution that conforms to some claim) to show for it.

So here – watch a commercial about kids and moms and the Olympics.  I won’t tell anyone if you cry a little. I did most certainly did not.

You’ll feel better when you watch the Carlton Dance flash mob, led by Carlton himself.

Both videos from The Daily What.

The quick update

We’re home, safe and sound, and so are the dogs.  Nothing happened to Roxy this weekend.  (Thank you, Jess.)  We had a  highly successful Passover seder Friday night, I drank all the wine in the house Saturday night (Mom assures me I most certainly did NOT drink all the wine, but I felt like I had by Sunday morning), and we spent much of Sunday stealing books from Mom and Dad’s basement, all of which now live in OUR basement.  The drive home was much better than anticipated (mostly because we listened to a fantastic book the whole way, but I’ll have more on that once we actually finish it – we have about an hour left), and when we arrived, we unloaded the books in about 30 minutes and picked up the dogs just before the kennel closed.  Busy, but quick and over and done with.  Details tomorrow.  Maybe.  I’ll think about it.

Anxiety reared its ugly head again, but I beat it back with presents and winter penguin wrapping paper.

I don’t have a fear of crowds.  I don’t have a fear of speaking or performing in front of people.  Right now, though, I can’t seem to make myself go back to my gym classes.  I haven’t been in about four weeks (I’ve been to the gym plenty, thank you very much, but only to work out on my own), and even though I really like those classes and I really like the people who take them and teach them, I don’t want to see them.  I’m hiding.  My plan for this afternoon was to stop working around four, go get my nails done, and get back to the gym in time for Muscle Blast and then yoga.  Four came along, and I found myself procrastinating.  Why would I do that?  Why would I waste time when I could be at the nail salon?  The later it got, the less likely it became that I’d have time to get my nails done in time to make it to class.  And then I started trying to decide which I would rather do if I only have time for one.  And then I realized that it’s the Wednesday before Christmas and I haven’t wrapped any presents yet.  If I don’t do some (or all) of it tonight, I’ll only have tomorrow evening to get it done, and really, where are  my priorities?  The gym will still be there tomorrow morning (for weights) and tomorrow lunchtime (for cardio) (same for Friday), and if I have time, I can still get my nails done.  And if I don’t have time, who cares?  They can wait.  Or I can – brace yourselves – do them myself.

So the anxiety I was feeling about going to the gym morphed into anxiety about my to do list, and I’ve sent it all away by deciding to wrap presents and watch TV and drink wine until John gets home (from another office Christmas party).  I win!