I stopped on the way home Friday to get a different type of knee brace for my left knee. The booger just will not cooperate! This time I got the knee stabilizer. It has a little hole in the front where my knee cap peeks out, with rigid "stabilizers" on either side of the peek-a-boo knee hole. The darn thing was tight. So tight, in fact, I felt like my knee had become a sausage encased in a too-tight skin.

But it worked and helped.

And so I ran. And I ran again Saturday. And the knees got a bit swollen again and sore. Very sore.

Yes, yes, I know.

Now I've decided it must be my gait. I am flat-footed and underpronate, so I need special running shoes. I'm going to stop by Big Peach Running Company as soon as I get two dimes to rub together, for I know the shoes will not come cheap.

*subject change*

I have decided that I will use this anonymous blog to rant and rave over something bugging me. Skip right over this part, for it will do no one any good but myself. I just need to get the words out of my head and in front of my eyes so they will stop rattling around in my brain.

I got a call two days ago (Saturday) from my mother informing me that she and my Dad would be coming Monday and staying until Wednesday morning. Whah? Noooooooooooooooooooooo! Immediately my heartrate increased drastically and I began to feel panicky. I had only two days to get my entire home as close to perfect as it can be. Why? Well because my parents are perfectionists who live in a museum of a home - and always have. Everything is perfect and in its proper place at all times. There is never a speck of dust anywhere, nothing is ever amiss. The following two examples taken from their lives should explain the whole deal: (1) after using the microwave at my parents' home one must shine the buttons; otherwise fingerprints will be left on them, and (2) after using the STAINLESS STEEL sink, one must first use soap and clean it thoroughly and second must dry it out, lest waterspots be left.

Can you imagine what an anxious child I must have been having to live with such perfection?

My home is clean and orderly. I crave organization and try to keep my home such. However, I have two dogs and two cats and two kids and a husband all cohabitating, and I do not expect nor ask for perfection or anything close to such. Therefore, my baseboards are a bit dusty; there are a few scuff marks here and there on some of our walls (though I do carefully scrub them every month or so); my refrigerator is frightening (Mr. Nobody has a habit of leaving open drinks in the fridge, which inevitably get knocked over in there...); my pantry is completely unorganized (I try, but honestly, if no one else in the house is willing to help what's the point?); I have one not-so-nice chair in my family room; A giant cooler has been left on my back deck for months (hubby - grrrr), so we look like damned rednecks (mom will love that one); my garage - fuhgeddaboudit; etc.

And so until they leave, I am fully armed with wine. Hubby and I stopped by the wine store and stocked up yesterday - 6 bottles. I plan to be drinking heavily until Wednesday morning, listening to the mom complain about how hard it is to find size 2 clothing and lamenting about all the beautiful St. John suits she wants to give me (since she has retired and doesn't need them), but they are all size 2 or 4. Look, lady, I'm a size 6. I have been a size 6 since high school and I will always be a size 6. I'm 5'8" and you are 5'5." You like to starve yourself and I love to eat. Same blood, different lives. Dig?

Hopefully I will be able to reign myself in and not overdo it with the runs today and tomorrow. I fear that I will go overboard trying to relieve extra stress.

*back on course*

Ahhh...the release of a rant. Nothin' quite like it.