Today’s Post is Brought to You by the Letter “W”

W –> Weird dreams, Vanna White, Working Out & Walking

On Weird Dreams: Huh. If Freud is right, it’s possible I have a deep-seeded fear of commas. Last night I dreamed I was sitting around with a table of editors. The editors all had a copy of my manuscript in their hands and each copy was marked up with red marker. Lots of it. And they were trying to get me to buy more punctuation. More commas to be precise. The editors were selling the punctuation to me auctioneer style. As in, “How about a comma here? Do I hear one dollar? One dollar. I’ve got one dollar, do I hear two?” while Vanna White stood behind the editors turning the “letters” only they were commas…all commas. I’m guessing this is one of those “missed the exam” dreams or worse an “I showed up for the (insert event you’re worried about here) but I was naked” dream. Um…y’all do have those dreams, right? I’m pretty sure I had clothes on when I bought the commas…

On Working Out: From an old post because it is true again today as I get back into working out…
I’ve got “DOMS.” It sounds like a disease, doesn’t it? When I was younger (pre-kid days) I used to work out and look forward to that slight soreness the day after lifting weights. It did not have a name back then, at least not one I ever heard. Now they call it Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness. The fact that they’ve named it makes it a bigger thing. This conversation happened yesterday:
The Engineer: “So, are you ready to work out today?”
Me: “Have you no pity? Can’t you see I have DOMS?”
The Engineer: “What? That’s not a thing.”
Me:  “It totally is. It’s on the Internet.”
The Engineer: (Sent me a look.)
Me: “Fine.”
So, anyway, I am slightly sore today.  I may never have Carrie Underwood’s legs, but I can still squat, leg curl, and walking lunge my way through the winter months dreaming that I could, right? I have also been walking more, now that Harley is getting older, so that helps. Although with a high of only 39 degrees today, I doubt we’ll leave the yard. Yes, I’m a wuss when it comes to the cold. I’d rather suffer on the surface of Mars, rather than be cold. I really should save money for a treadmill one day. What’s your choice of torture exercise in the winter?