My good friend from high school, Jen (one 'n' and don't forget it), came over tonight and got me tipsy on some kind of alcohol concoction. And now I'm blogging. Fun times.
Is it bad that the first sip relaxed me in a way I haven't felt in a while? Jen and I analyzed this to death about an hour ago, trying to decide if that made me an alcoholic. I don't think so, I think it just means I've been wound tighter than a...than a...than something wound tight (whoa, my brain is really functioning on high right now, not). I worry about these things though because a) I'm a worrier and b) I'm a recovering addict.
Did you know that about me internet? Yes, I Christina, used to have a problem with substance aduse. But that's all for another post on another day. Anyway, the 12-step program I worked through beat it into my head that alcohol is a drug. I just don't see that. I mean, if I was chugging 6-packs every few hours, or if my every waking thought revolved around my next drink, than yes I could say it was a problem for me. But I'm not and I don't, so let's leave it at that.
Anywho, my reason for sitting down to blog has escaped me and now I think I'm rambling. I think I'll turn in for the night. S has agreed to Emmie duty since I had a major tear-filled breakdown this afternoon due to my lack of sleep. God bless my husband. Oh, and God bless my Avent Isis pump. I don't know where I'd be without either of you.
Oh, and Heather! thanks so much for getting me hooked on this damn website. I sat reading those postcards forever today, and now my eyes are crossing. That will teach me to go through someone's blog links.