Sassyfats and the Great Discouragement

It's been awhile since I've posted anything about my rigorous workout routine. For awhile there I was alternating spin classes with strength training routines. Back in the good old days, those hard workouts gave me a twofold benefit: increased health/fitness, and decreased stress/anxiety. Or maybe that's a fourfold benefit. Math was never my subject. Anyhoo, somewhere along the way when I was workin' it with all I had, I reached a point where I was in more pain than I was willing to live with. Since seeing my doctor for my wonkybackism, I've been going to physical therapy so I can eventually see a day were I can get out of bed without whimpering.

Sassyfats Goes to Washington

Remember a couple of months ago when I was all like, I can’t stand this waiting any more I just want answers but nope I can’t tell you guys what this is all about? Here’s a link to refresh your memory.

I’m finally in a place where I can spill the beans. In my normal, everyday life I am a mild mannered documentation weenie for a Large Corporation. Pretty much all the jobs available at Large Corporation in my geographic location involve government (or “gubment,” if you will) contracting. Any of you who have lived the life of a gubment contractor know that when one project comes to an end, you have to scramble like hell to find another project to avoid unemployment. It’s never fun, but it’s all part of the circle of life. (Or maybe it’s one circle of hell Dante forgot to write about. I’m not entirely sure.)  

Holy Religious Education, Batman! You Want Me to Do WHAT???

Since their tender Pre-K years, El and Em have enjoyed going to Faith Formation classes at our church. (For you old-school Catholics, Faith Formation = CCD. For you Protestants, Faith Formation = Sunday School. For you of non-Christian upbringing, apply the analogous term of your understanding and we’ll call it a day.) The chid’rens eagerly carry their little folders to class, they learn some Catholic stuff, and then they happily emerge from the Religious Education building and proudly show us whatever religious artsy-craftsy thingy they made that day. They ask us if we can go straight to the Dairy Freeze across the street from the church, then they get all pouty and defiant when we inform them we are going to Mass before we even discuss lunch plans, you should have eaten your breakfast like we told you to, now is your chance to pee because we will NOT let you go during Mass, and don’t you roll your eyes at me, Young Ladies!

Every. Single. Week.

My Lower Back is an Asshole (And Other Tangentially Related Crap)

(Miracle Man thinks people might see this title and think I’ve had some sort of unfortunate rerouting of my internal workings. Rest assured I have not. Carry on.)

I’ve had on-again, off-again back pain for most of my adult life. I’ve usually been able to write it off – maybe I bent wrong or picked up something that was too heavy or not been careful enough in a recent workout. But lately the pain has been more on-again than off-again, seriously putting a crimp in my lifestyle. So I finally broke down and saw my doctor.

And That’s Why We Have Something Called "Indoors"

In the far recesses of my long-ago memory, I fondly remember camping with my family. I was a wee little Sassyfat in those days, not even a big sister yet. We camped at the beach and in the mountains, and the activities always involved stuff like hiking and fishing. To this day, the musty aroma of tent canvas and pungent aroma of bug spray always make me smile. I loved camping – when I was too little to be expected to carry stuff, help pitch tents, cook anything, or clean up the campsite. When I was just a tiny little tagalong whose only job was to stay within sight of my parents, camping was a whole lot of fun.