Dysalexic

The baseball field behind Stephanie’s house is blaring old cheesy “pump up the jam” songs as well as out-dated anthems popular in the 70’s and 80’s. Obviously this doesn’t sit well with me. It sits about as well with me as the frozen lasagna I’m about to eat is going to sit in my stomach.

The day went by so slowly. The footwear buyer for the lifesports section of Cadillac had to explain every single shoe in detail to me and the girl I was training with, because he was thrilled that he could point out every single feature and we would know what he was talking about. Not that either one of us could look at the shoe and figure out the features for ourselves. So that’s what I did all day– from 8-3:30.

9 days until freedom. I mean… personal freedom. Although things keep getting more annoyingly complicated for me, especially financially.

I miss my boy. It made my day just a little better to hear his voice this afternoon. It made things just a little more tolerable.

I’m thinking about buying a season pass to Seacoast Fun Park. Good idea? yes no?