Yesterday, LRRH treated the boys and me to lunch.  I was a complete glutton, finishing a breadstick, 2 bowls of salad, and every bite of my shrimp alfredo.  Feeling like a complete failure and a total slob, I decided to come home and play outside with the boys to burn off some of those calories and carbs.  Luckily, the rain held off, and I was able to make good on that idea.  After throwing the ball about a million times in an attempt to teach Master Chief how to fetch, my arm started to get sore, even though I was using the flinger-thingie because I throw like a girl.  Whatever.  So once I got tired of retrieving the balls, the boys and I tossed the ball(s) around.  They got bored and wanted to play in the dirt, which I am not a fan of, so I paced for a bit trying to find some way to make myself useful and burn some calories.  What was I thinking?  Why didn’t I just stop there, grab a book, and bask in the partially-cloud-covered sun?

          What did my ingenius mind come up with?  Raking leaves and pine needles.  I shit you not…  I grabbed the rake and started raking the yard, which, might I remind you, is just under half an acre, and hasn’t seen a rake since, oh, SEPTEMBER of last year.  DH cleared a nice path along the dog run, but the rest was completely covered.  I thought our fence was about 3 feet tall, but it turns out that it was just under a foot and a half of leaves.  There are about 4 piles that are waist high in my yard right now…  I didn’t bag them because 1.) they’re wet from 4 days of rain, and 2.) EEWWW!!  I don’t want to touch them, I just want them off my dirt laced with a few green strands grass so the boys can run and play.  I’m not sure what to do with the piles, either.  It’s easily 15-20 lawn bags full and I think my back would give out before I even got half of them bagged, let alone our trash pick-up won’t take them and just what in the blue hell would I do with 20 bags of leaves? 

        For all my trouble, I wake up with throbbing shoulders, a screaming back, and a chest that aches every time I inhale.  I am sure part of that is my allergies, which, despite the Singulair are already seriously kicking my ass.  I came in the house smelling like what I imagine an Egyptian tomb smells like – ancient leaves, dust, and dirt.  Don’t ask me why I think a pharoah’s tomb would smell like that – I know they’re sandy, not leaf-covered and dirty.  Whatever dude.  I stunk, itched, and wanted to just fall down dead, but I didn’t.  I got my grimy ass in the shower, bathed the kids, made dinner, and then hung out with my boys – reading stories and finger painting.  Do I rock, or what?

          So today, I get to suffer.  That’s what I get for trying to exercise.  Last time I do that crap…