Could it be from the stress of a gorilla sized raccoon relieving himself in our pool? How do I know? Because it ain't #1! Totally dissing the trap full of food that we have graciously laid out for him? Trust me it has to be a him. Probably not.
Could it be the stress of having to trade in my mac daddy car for one more suitable for work, not quite as mac? I could totally ride that one, but I don't think that is it.
Maybe the stress of chopping my hair off and now resembling my brother. Not as stressful as I would like to admit-I slept with barettes in my hair last night so I guess I really don't mind.
How about the fact that a certain someone I know is watching the carbs, and everything else he eats, and not drinking? Totally stressful and worthy of blog blocking status. However it does wonders for my muffin top and sausage legs so I can't complain.
You know what I think I need? A little stress relief. A night of trapping raccoons while I'm drunk on wine and full of pasta. I'll be wearing one of those hats with a fake ponytail coming down the back (blond because I have always wanted to try it) and talking about those fatty black rims I would so love to have. And that just might bring me back!