of mine recently told me, "the wagon I fell off turned the corner and I can't even see it anymore!"
It was such a perfect description of how I've been feeling the past couple years that it stuck in my head.
Yesterday evening, I was out in my backyard picking wild blackberries. (Yes. We DO live in the far outreaches of suburbia.) I noticed I was standing in the middle of an enormous fire ant bed. (Yes. This is as bad as it sounds.) When I noticed that I was about to get bitten by about a zillion of God's most evil little creatures, I hauled my fat ass out of there at light speed! I moved because my life (not literally, but it felt that way) depended on it.
Thing is, my life DOES depend on me moving my fat ass.
This is just a quick update to let everyone know that I'm on my way to catch that damn wagon.
If you see me running after it, feel free to give my fat ass a push!