You know you've officially passed the 'growing out' hair phase when....

....you burn your boob with the hair straightener.

Don't ask how I know this. Just trust me.

You know you're out of shape when....

....you go deaf, dumb and blind 15 minutes into your workout.

Ok, so for those of you who don't follow me on Twitter (and if you don't, you should!) you may have missed the entire boot camp fiasco. A few weeks ago, I signed up for exercise boot camp. I'd been thinking about it for months and finally talked myself into paying money for someone to yell at me while I ran laps at 5:00am. Fun, right?

So the night before, I lay out all my stuff. Weights and mat in the car. Shoes and socks by the door. I parked in the driveway so I could slip out the front door without waking the dogs. I was ready to DO THIS.

Drag myself out of bed at 4:45am and drive out to the park....to find no one there. Not a soul. I'm pretty sure even the birds were still asleep. WTH?

Called the chick, only to find out that boot camp in my area had been cancelled due to lack of interest. Surprised? Not so much. She claims to have emailed me to let me know. I think that was a load of bull. Whatever.

So I was disappointed......and also slightly relieved. Dodged that bullet, right?

Until Tuesday night's bunco group, that is. Turns out one of the ladies I play with goes to another boot camp in town and she invited me along. This one is at night. Suh-weet! Sign me up.

The trainer is really nice, assures me that I have nothing to worry about even though I am jumping into the middle of the class. Everyone else has been doing this for two weeks, but I'll be just fine.

Three warm up laps in, I am huffing and puffing like 80-year-old smoker. Six sets of lunges later, my face was cherry red and my shirt was soaked. Four sets of inchworms later, my vision was blurry and my ears were ringing. I was going deaf, dumb and blind right on the basketball court.

Trainer Matt comes over and tells me to lay down on the floor with my feet up against the wall. Not quite sure exactly what he said (I was deaf, remember?), something about blood pressure and the inchworms and my equilibrium. I wanted to die of embarrassment right then and there. I mean, who pansies out 15 minutes in?

After about 10 minutes, my head cleared and I finished the class. I was sure I was going to die (or at least puke) about a dozen times, but I made it through to the end and even actually enjoyed the stretching cool down.

So clearly, I am in worse shape than I thought. I'm still debating whether to actually join the class or not. Maybe it's a little too hard core? Or maybe I'll get used to it? I don't know. I've got until Friday to figure it out.

You know you go to Starbucks too often....

....when even the baristas are passing you job leads.

Yes, that really happened.

You know you go to Starbucks too often when...

...you get personal invitations to attend their training classes!

Did you know that there are different levels of barista? I didn't, until this morning. Apparently, there are your basic green apron kind and then the 'coffee expert' kind that wear black aprons.

So I popped in to Starbucks while I was out avoiding cleaning my house running some very important errands. To say that I am a regular there would be an understatement....they all know that I work from home, write a local blog, and even that Nate is away for the week. Don't judge.

Anyway, my favorite barista, Sarah says to me, 'I have something for you and I know it's kind of weird but I'm going to give it to you anyway'.

I am fairly certain that my face lit up like a five-year-old's on Christmas Day. What can I say, I'm easy like that.

It was an invitation to her Coffee Master seminar to qualify for her black apron.

I'm not sure whether to be super excited or embarrassed that I am there so often I now get invited to training nights.

Wonder if there's free coffee at this shindig? Keeping fingers crossed....

You know you work too much when....

{image courtesy of dinkycow}

...instead of counting sheep, you recite Vehicle Identification Numbers to lull yourself to sleep.

You Know It's Bad When...

...not even a massage could help after the day I've had. A total blackout is the only answer.

A Girl Has Needs.....or How to Know You're a Starbucks Addict

After rolling out of my comfy bed to find a rainy gray morning, I grabbed the keys for my all-too-often morning trip to Starbucks. For someone who spends 95% of her week in her own house, this little bit of escapism keeps me from burning the place down.

So I grabbed my wallet and headed out the garage door....and realized my car had been stolen.

Okay, maybe not really, but for about 10 seconds I thought it was true. I was momentarily panic stricken until I remembered that Nate was taking my car today so that he could use the GPS to go to the dentist. I flipped on the garage light and saw his car exactly where it should be.

And you want to know the funny part? My first thought wasn't, 'Ohmigosh, my car!'. It was, 'How the heck am I going to get to Starbucks'?

Sad, but true.