A little faith and a lot of love go a long way…

Teaching lessons at Walmart

Teaching lessons at Walmart.

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Teaching lessons at Walmart

So I’m old and everyone, including my gyno, knows it. Most of the time I don’t have a problem with it, however I felt my age during an…”incident” this week.

It was an exhausting week.  As a new Math Coach I was able to participate in our district’s process for writing math curriculum. It turned out to be much more intense mentally than I had anticipated. Considering this was my first time writing curriculum, that’s no surprise since I didn’t know what to expect in the first place. After our second day of writing, I went home for a couple of hours but had to leave for an evening meeting since I’ve recently become an Thirty-One independent sales consultant. I began my weary trek back home around 9 pm when I remembered I needed to stop for spray paint.

I figured I would just make a quick stop at my local Wal-Mart, pick up what I need and be on my way. I won’t even go into how I got “lost” in the school supply aisles…but somehow that constantly happens at this time of year…which is why I ended up finally checking out at nearly 10 pm.

I. LOVE. school supplies.

I. LOVE. school supplies.

There I was at 10 pm after an exhausting day in the check out line at Wal-Mart. I was in my summer mommy clothes, glasses instead of contacts, hair tangled and starting to look greasy…basically I was rocking my summer hobo look and probably should have been nominated for one of those “Women of Wal-Mart” calendars. You’re welcome for that image.

A teenage boy was the unfortunate cashier charged with ringing up my items. As he scanned my 4 spray paint bottles a series of beeps sounded.  He smiled and explained that the beeps sound to alert him to make sure the person purchasing spray paint is 18 or older. I half jokingly replied, “Oh, I’m nowhere near 18 anymore.” He promptly replied, “Oh, yes, I can tell.”

SERIOUSLY!? I couldn’t let that one go. I used my mom voice, looked right at him and said, “Honey, the appropriate response is, ‘Ma’m you don’t look a day over 18. May I please see your ID?” I could tell he was super flustered as he mumbled and his face turned beet red. As he handed me my bags he said, “Actually, you look like you’re 21.” I thanked him, took my purchases, and went on my way. I think he learned a valuable lesson about women that night. 😉


I’m a winner with a death wish.

I’m a winner with a death wish..

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I’m a winner with a death wish.

So, it turns out I apparently have a death wish. Ok, ok…not quite. However, I believe the phrase, “glutton for punishment” applies to me now. So remember how I went ahead and decided to become an Olympian runner? I ran (and I use the term “ran” loosely) a 5K back in the beginning of June. Apparently insanity confidence is a side effect of running and I decided I could totally complete a Spartan Race. In fact, when my buddy over at Pink Runner decided to offer a giveaway for a free race, I was filled with insanity excitement and was the first to comment and enter the drawing for the race on her blog. Turns out…I won!

First, I was super excited that I won. I mean, everyone wants to be a winner, right? Then, I was overwhelmed by intense fear. I’m no athlete! What was I thinking?! Finally the intensity of the fear subsided (it’s still there…just not quite as intense) and I’m kind of looking forward to it. I mean, it’s forcing me to set some goals to train for it. (Note:  By “train for it” I mean “come up with a plan to survive.”)

One thing I know for sure…I need some support! So first and foremost, I know I’ll be blogging about this adventure and hopefully you’ll be encouraging me along the way.  Secondly, I’m hoping (praying, begging…) that there are a least a couple of you out there who want to carry my body across the finish line run beside me and cross the finish line with me to show your support. Pretty please? With a cherry on top? Just think about it…you have some time…I’m thinking I’m going to do the July 12th, 2014 race in Palmerton, PA. We could even start budgeting now and make a weekend of it…celebrate our survival accomplishment! Won’t that be FUN!?!

In any case, be prepared for some updates of how this clumsy diva attempts to bring out her inner SPARTAN. ROAR!!! (Did that sound Spartan-y? Ah well…baby steps.)