27: Good night!

I'm just annoyed and drained tonight. I'll post more tomorrow. Good night!

26: "Are you expecting?"

So, it all started yesterday after work. I was excited to be watching my Office return after a long, long summer without. But, first I needed to get my walk on. I walked my three miles and rushed home to see my show. I wanted to have time for a nice, hot shower before the show.

I was feeling good, too. "My jeans are looser," I told my walking buddy, J. "I'm so glad we're keeping up with it!"

I had finished walking and had just left J's house, where we usually meet up to walk. My phone rang, and it was my hubby, asking me to pick up a few things from the store. I was, after all, passing right by it. I reluctantly stopped.

"I am not even dressed right. I'm wearing this little tank top and I just don't feel like seeing anyone ..." I was telling my hubby this, all while walking in the store. It was too late. I was in ... there was no turning back from the grocery store.

It was fine, but a little bit cold. Man, I was wishing I had my favorite green sweatshirt. I got the things I needed all while chatting quietly with my step-sister Jessica, who lives in Ohio. We hung up when I had to get in line. All was good. The cashier was an older woman -- maybe in her 60s -- with dark hair and painted-on eyebrows.

"How much can I write the check over here?"

And I was trying to do the math in my head, when she said "Are you expecting?"

I stopped in my tracks. And I looked at her and said -- with a straight face -- "Don't you know the rule? ... You don't ask a woman if she's "expecting" unless she's, like, on the way to the hospital to GIVE BIRTH."

The bag boy, a young, 20-something college kid, hung his head and just shook it slowly from right to left, as if to say ... "You did not just say that!"

I don't even know if she apologized. I really don't remember, probably because all I could hear was the sound of blood rushing to my head. But, she started talking about her kids and how she thought that ...

"well, when I had my kids, I would get confused a lot and when you talked about the math with the check ..."

Imagine the surprise when I really had nothing to say back.

The bag boy, who wore the name tag "Dylan" on his green shirt, looked so embarrassed. A red head, his cheeks turned bright red. I was waiting for my receipt when Dylan asked me "Can I help you out, please?"

"That's cool," I told him.

And as soon as we stepped out into the cool, crisp evening air, he said "You do not look pregnant! I am so sorry. I just can't believe she even said that!"

"I know, right?" I said. "I can see that you know better than to say things like that! Well, you know, I had two kids in like two years ... and I am trying to lose weight, just came from walking ..."

He was shaking his head profusely in agreement. "I could totally tell that you just came from working out ... I could totally tell."

I was so upset until the bag boy just amused me so. He was so funny, so concerned that my feelings were hurt. Plus, he says that I do not look like I am expecting! Woo hoo! Well, I guess the bag boy has more sense than the cashier.

Man, the last time I ventured away from "my" Publix and went to a Publix in another neighborhood, the bagger said something just as crazy, although less crazy in my book. The bagger said something about a "vaginal probe" sonogram. I am serious.

I'm thinking that I want to stick very close to my own Publix ... from now on.

25: Thursday -- the good and the bad

Don't you just love packages?!

Well, I came home on my lunch break and about 10 minutes after I had been home, my door bell rang. It was Fed Ex with a package. "My magazine!" I said to my hubby. I flung open the door, ready to sign.

"Suzy Richardson?"
"Yes."
"Sign here, please."

He handed me a big, brown box. "What could this be?" I asked my hubby. Well, it wasn't my magazine that I was waiting for. I have a piece published this month in Charisma, and I have been waiting for my copies and the check. Oh, here's the link, if you are interested:

Tim Tebow article

I grabbed a pair of scissors and began anxiously cutting my way through the tape. I saw my friend from Ohio, Melissa's, address on it. "The swim diapers!"

We had just talked about swim diapers and how I didn't feel like spending $10 on a pack of swim diapers because it was almost October. So, she hooked me up! But, there was more.

There was a note attached to another smaller box within the box. "Since we can't have our Office party together ..." it began.

Here is the note that was attached to my little box within a big box. (I know, my camera sucks. When I get my new one, this one goes to the kids. That says a lot, doesn't it?)

OMG! My friend from South Carolina, who now lives in Ohio, just sent me a goodie package. How freaking sweet! It was stuffed with all kinds of "Office" goodies for our favorite show's season return, which came on at 9 p.m. tonight.

There were notepads, packs of Office pencils, sticky notes, a coffee mug ... all kinds of stuff, even a pack of popcorn and some other snacks. The fun part was that I got to open my little package on my way back to work and so I handed out some of my little goodies -- you know, just some sticky notes and two pencils. I couldn't part with much more, especially since it was from a good friend -- to some of my office mates who love the Office.

This is my cabinet space above my desk. Don't you just love what I've done with the place?!


At my desk:-) That is my bobble head Dwight, that Melissa sent me when I first got my job. That was a-whole-nother special package day. And there is my sister's picture. The angel beanie baby, I found at that yard sale my daughter and I went to this past weekend. I couldn't put it at the grave, because it would get ruined. Any way, I knew I had the perfect place for it.)

So, that was the good of my day. Thank you, Melissa. You just ... rock as a girlfriend!

So, the bad of my day happened as I was in line at Publix. You WILL NOT BELIEVE what the Publix cashier said to me. No, you will not even believe it. My draw dropped and I had to "school" this woman about the things people should never, ever say to other people.

But since I have to keep you coming back, tomorrow's post will begin with those three little words that HAPPENED TO ME in a Pubilx grocery store line.

24: Getting ready!

So, the reason that I cannot do a full blog post tonight is because I am helping my hubby prepare for a job interview tomorrow for the career that he has been wanting for so long! I am so excited for him. This has been about a 3-month long process, and here he is -- at the end.

I am going to go over the questions he should ask, and you know -- all that interview stuff. The interview is at 9 a.m. all the way on the other side of town. So, does anyone have any advice for him? (If you read this tonight, that is.)

Okay, so I'll be back tomorrow with the update!

23: I don't want a bra. I want a sandwich!

So, hubby and I met for a lunch-time appointment. I walked in the office and glanced at the clock on the wall -- I had just about 40 minutes before I would have to leave for work. "Hey, honey!" I said and hugged him.

He smiled. Gave me a nice hug. "I'm starving!" I said to him.

At that moment, I was so glad that we had that conversation -- the one about him bringing me lunch from home to the appointment so I'd be able to eat before heading back to the office. After 40 minutes, it was time for me to go, and he stopped me on the way out. "I brought that thing you wanted," he said. "It's in the van."

"Oh, thank you!" I said to him. With a rumbling tummy, I was so grateful. See -- I knew that I had a deadline to meet at work,and if I didn't eat now, eating was not going to happen. I knew I'd be working up until the last minute on this project, which was due by 5 p.m. SHARP.

And so, I stopped by the mom van, which he now frequently drives (although, I think he secretly loves it!) And I peeked my head in. "Where is my sandwich? ... where, oh, where?"

Well, the only thing that was sitting in the back seat was a bundled-up bra. I grabbed it and stuck it in my purse. He didn't even have a bag, I guess, since I have become the plastic-bag nazi around this house. So, I throw the bra in my purse and head back to work -- no lunch to fill me. And then I remembered that other conversation that my hubby and I had earlier -- the one about him needing to wash a specific bra for me because my back was really hurting and I needed it.

As I walked away, I was saying "I don't want a bra. I want a sandwich!" I quickly realized how silly I sounded, and was grateful that no one had been in ear shot.

So, he got it half right, right?

Back at my desk, I called him. "When you said you had it, I thought you were talking about the sandwich, honey. Not a bra!"

"What sandwich? he asked me.

"Oh ... never mind. Can you bring me some lunch. I can't leave ... on a tight deadline."

"I just got in line to pick the kids up (from school)."

Great. Just perfect, I was thinking. I'll just starve, whatever. And that's the moment an e-mail popped up.

"LEFTOVER PIZZA IN THE CAFETERIA. COME AND GET IT."

Are you serious?! Nice. Downstairs, and just a few moments later, I walked into a room with about 10 boxes of pizza sitting on a table. I grabbed a slice of the Supreme ... and later met my deadline at 4:55 p.m. sharp.

22: Boo!

Baby R, 6 months old.

21: Pee on my feet! Ewwww.

Today, my hubby and I visited a church. We were both turned off when they talked about the $1,000 seed planting to become a partner. "We are about to have to pay for two children to be in day care. That's my seed offering, okay?"

I was actually watching the clock the entire time -- I know, I am so bad. But, I was gone after the second minute. At 12:30 sharp, we have to leave I told my hubby. I had a meeting with R, my cohort for the soon-to-launch mom site.

I was envisioning R and I, talking and laughing over hot, buttery rolls. I was envisioning Texas Roadhouse, and I was determined to make it happen.

Around 1, I scooped up R in the mom van, and we were off. With the windows rolled down and some good ole Alan Jackson on, we were off. And so, over hot, buttery rolls, we did indeed chat about the upcoming launch date and the launch party and the Web site contract.

It was all exciting stuff -- ideas shared over a huge Chicken Critter salad (with Ranch on the side) and an ice-cold frozen Strawberry Margarita. The afternoon was absolutely perfect.

My favorite Texas Roadhouse entree -- the Chicken Critter salad. You must try it, if you haven't already!

Frozen margarita at Texas Roadhouse.

With stuffed bellies, we headed to the mall to pick up a few things, and we found a little table in front of the water fountain by the food court. There we sat -- with my three-ring binder open -- and chatted about the site's themes, colors, needs, direction, etc.

"Wow. We're like two totally normal moms, making our dreams come true -- right here in the middle of the Oaks Mall. That's pretty cool," she said to me.

I couldn't have agreed more.

It's all very exciting. But, to be honest, I have never been in business before and I pray that everything goes smoothly and that this site will be all that I have envisioned it to be in my head. I guess it can be scary to just put yourself out there and try, knowing that you could easily fail.

But, for me, I think it would be more scary to just do nothing.

So, moving on from the site stuff, I came home from my meeting and took a luxurious, two-hour nap. Then, my hubby and I hung out with the kids all evening, reading and cooking chicken stir-fry. After the kids were all tucked in for the night, hubby and I headed outside together to take our dog, Gator, to the bathroom.

(Hubby always comes out with me because there are no street lights and it's so dark -- I love how protective he is over me. I just love it.)

So, I am talking to my hubby about the meeting and my day when I feel a warm sensation on my feet -- both of them. My dufus of a dog was spraying my feet. Ewww! I jumped back, but he got me good. I ran upstairs and took a shower. I was totally disgusted. Ugh. I still am.

Great. I have become the pee post.

Yep, that means it's time for me to call it a night. (Hope this post wasn't too random for you, Staci. But, come on, I live a totally and randomly crazy, silly life:-))