Seriously, I've been sitting here trying to catch up on some blog reading and wonder what the eff I should babble about today.
My friend, Kat, just called because the Ohio State game was over and she could finally concentrate on other things. (Yea, I live in Ohio, but I'm not a huge OSU fan.....more like a Nebraska fan. I mean, I like OSU, but there aren't the top of my list. I didn't even know they were on....and they nearly let Toledo beat them...and I'm totally off topic.)
Anyway, we've been talking about hiking at the Reserve, where all the deer are out to get me, and we were just making plans to take ourselves over there for an early evening walk around 5 ish. I told her to just come over and hang out before we go and I said this, "You can just come over and hang out. I have to eat at 5 and then we can go. I don't want to rush, so let's just wait until I eat my next meal. You can check out this awesome blood blister I got on my hand today at the gym; it's pretty awesome. Kat, who get's excited about blood blisters and caluses on their hands? Me, I guess. Well, I just figured out what to blog about today. Thanks."
Her response was a little giggle and this, "Sarah, I didn't even say anything. You just rambled that all out on your own, but I'm glad I could help. Be over soon."
Yea, who does get excited about that? I mean, I do like to have nice, soft, girly hands, but I also like that they look like I really work and bust my ass. I feel like if people think I'm a lazy baby I can just show them my hands and ask what baby would have these rough hands?
I don't know, maybe that's just me.