If you feel the world is slightly off-kilter today (perhaps you are viewing winged pigs in the skies above you), please do not fear. Barring rain delays and extra innings, it should be well over by dinner time. Why? Because that's what time my husband should be home from his first Tiger game of the season. The one which he is attending with...my father! (Da, Da, DA!) In our fourteen years of marriage, my husband and my father have never once done anything alone together. No father/son fishing trips. No father/son football games. Dad did rope the husband into a horseshoe tournament at a church picnic one time, but that was an accident. Husband was only there to pick up the boy. Yup. You could have knocked me over with a feather when the phone rang Thursday and Dad asked to speak with Husband, who returned with, "I'm going to a Tiger game with your dad on Thursday." (Wha-Wha-Wha?)

I asked my dad if he was aware of the fact that Husband is incapable of attending a baseball game without drinking beer(s). Dad said that was fine, he would just pray over him. Husband says he's not going to drink ("or maybe just have one") but will eat many, many hotdogs instead. (Greeeaaat!) My mom thinks this might be Dad's way of doing some sort of "intervention", but I highly doubt that. Dad's the one always telling me how wonderful my husband is and that I shouldn't worry so much about his drinking. (This coming from a man with 20+ years of sobriety is a little disconcerting.)

All in all, it's just weird.

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I'm doing pretty well on my rules, such as they are. I'm still not eating the best way I know how, but I'm working on it. Somewhere down the lane I've gotten myself a real sweet tooth. It usually hits me right when I get home in the afternoon. I tear through the house looking for anything in the candy family. Unfortunately, we're plumb out of sugar. A fact which tends to put the crank in me.

Last night I made the discovery that I would rather cook than eat fast food. (Duh! you say, but I'm slow getting there.) I ended up not eating all of my dinner and felt quite nauseas after. Found myself sitting there wishing I were one of those people who could throw up and feel better. (I last threw up almost exactly 13 years ago.) Later, I found myself really wanting some popcorn (how's that for fat girl logic?) but it was 8pm so I didn't. Yay, me.

I also went walking with coworkers yesterday. It was soooo very pretty outside and a 30 minute walk felt pretty good. The downside was that I hadn't brought the right shoes, so my feet hurt are suffering today, and the building temperature has not been properly regulated for spring, so it was about 90 degrees in here yesterday afternoon. (Which I hope they fix soon, because it's causing me to have monster headaches when I get home!)

Baby steps!