Tommy is making taco lasagna for us for dinner. I know that I had never made a lasagna before my... twenties? I am assisting, of course, but he happily washed the 9 x 13" pan (because he dirtied it last night by making a cake). The kid is becoming a ridiculously good baker/cook. I asked him today if he were interested in learning to make bread. "No." hahaha, don't sugarcoat it, Kid.
Last night, I was so tired from all of my running this week that I went to bed before 9pm. Of course, I woke up at midnight. Took a melatonin, went back to bed. I was okay this morning mainly because I'd gotten the extra sleep early. My body was already tired this morning, and I was staring down a 6-mile-run. As part of training for a half marathon (July 3, here in town), we have to start increasing our weekend miles. I had been trying to map out routes last night and the internets were fussy and gassy, so I stopped. I had a general idea this morning of what a 6-mile-run would be, so we ran that. I mapped it later, and it was 6.48 miles. Oops.
I am feeling it. We are going to see a play this evening (Moliere really pumps my nads), and I am dreading it. Because it requires sitting and not moaning and not lying on my bed. My back hurts. My knees hurt. My butt hurts. My whole body hurts.
I am taking tomorrow off. We are supposed to get ten inches of snow tomorrow and tomorrow night anyway. You know, every single year they make a prediction like that, it never happens. But if the rest of this winter has been any indication, we'll get every inch. Then the wonderful state of Missouri has until Wednesday to clear the roads so I can fly out of Kansas City.
It seems reasonable to assume that the kids won't have school on Monday.
I am going to go take another advil and try to psych myself up for the play.