Holy schnikies, Batman!

I've surpassed 1,000 hits on this thing. What's the deal with that, man? I am like a famous person and you all are my stalkarazzi. So rad.

I'm even going to do ya'll a favor and not talk about scrapbooking today. I feel kind of bad that all I've done lately is went on and on and on about layouts and kits and nakey roll-arounds in a big pile of paper...well, no more! At least for today anyway. Tomorrow...well, I'll just be honest -- it's a crapshoot.

And now, presenting an Eventful Morning:

Had a little doctor's appointment at 8 a.m., which is practically the crack of dawn, but I like to get these things done before work so I don't feel too guilty and my boss won't give me the evil eye all day. Anyhoo, no big seriousness, just a check up and to get a new prescription for my "crazy head" meds, as my husband so eloquently puts it. Here are a couple of things I've discovered about myself:

a) I have surprisingly low blood pressure in the morning. It was 90/64, which is practically comatose compared to what my bp is in the evening (after work, no doubt). When the nurse told me what it was I about fell off the exam table. I'm like, pinch me because I think I may be dead.

b) I weigh 6 pounds more than this time last year, which is still one pound lighter than what I was when I was pregnant with Autumn. Haha, take that crap-hole medicine that makes me fat! I win.

c) I do not pass out when I get my blood drawn on an empty stomach. This may seem weird to some of ya'll because who really passes out when getting blood drawn? Well, I've came darn close when 1) getting my navel pierced, 2) when getting my Hepatitis vaccine, and 3) when I was trying to stick my own finger to get my blood type in high school Biology. All fun times.

Oh, and for my mom who is no doubt reading this, I have not had a relapse back into Hypochondria Land, I swear. The doctor was just getting blood to check my cholestoral to make sure I'm not clogging my arteries up with bean dip.

Alright, fine.

I insisted he do the cholestoral check. But whatev.

So walking out of the doctor's office toward my car, there is only one thing and one thing only on my mind: who the hell peed on my front tire? Seriously. It was all up on that thing. And so I kind of threw up in my mouth a little bit.

Get home and just had about 5 minutes to kiss hubby good morning and feed the cats. And then I'm backing out of the driveway and things are going a little rocky. I'm wondering if I ran over Autumn's volleyball or something.

Turns out, I have an extremely flat tire. Yes, the one of the pee. Hmmm, a conspiracy? Mayhaps.

Current status: riding low on my side while the passenger side is flying in the wind on the big-ass Monster Truck spare tire I have. Where did this thing come from I ask you? And now I get to spend my lunch hour, my own personal quality time in which to commune with a chocolate coconut blended latte, at the tire-gettin-place to see if I can finagle a freebie. It may involve showing some leg.

I will keep you informed.