September Twenty Eighth

I had a terrible brain fart just now. I looked at the date and erased it and retyped Twenty Ninth. I was scared that a lost an entire day (yes I do that on occasion when a migraine strikes, or when I get the flu, or when my pain levels aren't manageable) until I realized it was indeed the 28th today. Maybe in2as trying to speed up the arrival of October as the high today hit 100. That's pretty much fall in Arizona. Hell, I've celebrated birthdays in flip flops and I was born on Thanksgiving.

Well, now that I know I didn't lose a day, I guess all is well in the world, right?

I did this wonderful, scary thing last night. I volunteered to be vice president of the PTO at my kids school. I really miss being involved in something like that. We dropped Girl Scouts this year (my participation hadn't been that great due to my health anyway) and my son joining a soccer team didn't work out this year due to scheduling issues. I thought really hard about making this commitment and I think it will benefit me and my kids and lots of other kids and parents and teachers too. Plus, I'll be working less, or not at all pending my doctor's advice/decision at my next appointment. This is a job that will keep me busy, but not stretched thin and will be fun and allow me to make new friends
Yeah, that's important too. As the workforce has gotten younger, I relate less and less to people as a friend and more and more like a mom. I admit, though, that I love hearing about my coworkers plans for school, or getting married or starting families. I love to celebrate others. But, celebration aside, I still lack that connection that friends have.

Take this as a warning, too. Not in a bad way, though! I'll be asking for help along the way! Hello fundraisers! Hello school events! Don't worry too much, I'm not about to beat any horses to death. Or sell you wrapping paper. Well, maybe on the wrapping paper. Or possibly cookie dough. That's because we all need cookie dough in the fridge for those random commercial-esque moments that you feel the need to bake with your kids while dancing to Cindy Lauper or that late night Netflix marathon that calls for cookie dough straight out of the container. You see what I'm getting at here, right?