No Time

There is no time to blog.

There is time for South Beach.

photo 1

There is time for Peanut Butter.  37 hours and that is what is left.  #WTF

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There is time for another t-shirt.

Still haven’t figured out how to fit blogging into my life.

When I do, please come back and read.  I’ll share this trip’s detials

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Until then I will be blogging from a cardboard box…

Down to one… and still homeless.

DBAT

I obviously took the plunge to share my life with all four of you.DBATNow I find myself contemplating. Should I blog about this or not?  Logic typically tells me no, irrationality often makes it happen.

not enough

Some crazies are actually requesting I post more often.

Warning – I’ll probably end up sharing too much and it won’t be tremendously exhilarating, but keep reading.  Doing so will only boost your self-esteem.

If that doesn’t happen, you will at least be thankful you don’t have to walk a mile in my shoes.

death shoes

Found out I have to wear these bad boys in a wedding.

At this point you have three options.

1.  Pray for me.  Even if you aren’t religious, I need the support.

2. Send pain killers.  (Liquid courage will also be appreciated.)

3. Share your bridesmaid shoe horror story. Make sure it’s a good one. Come June I want to know I am not the first bridesmaid to completely embarrass myself in front of countless family and friends.

I’d thank you for reading/sharing, but Sweet Brown says it best.

Please stop back.  Once or twice a week. Even better man up and follow me.   Email, Twitter, both…everyone’s doing it.