Dream Land


It’s Friday. (thank goodness) And I’m out of here an hour early.

To be honest, I’ve got nothing planned for the next two days. Fitness wise, I cant go to my regular spin class because of some Summer Fest and I’ve only got a short, 10K run on Sunday scheduled. My loving boyfriend will be out as well.

So, cue the music, I’ll be….


Meh, it’s alright. I-will-survive. I’m downloading a new book to read. (BTW, this book was a fantastic, cheap read. Well worth the $1 to download.) And I’ll make some super awesome chicken and shrimp tacos for dinner. I’ll put on some horrible bad, scripted reality show and call it an evening.

Truth be told- I’ve been in dream land this entire week. I’ve finally come down from post race high and have gotten back in to my normal fitness. After conquering my dream race, everything is just as it was. And I’m left to again dream of new clothes, vacations, household items, etc…. things I currently cannot afford.

I mean, you really cant blame me of dreaming about vacations. I haven’t been out of the midwest in YEARS. I was hoping that this or next year would be the time when I FINALLY get on a plane and go. I had the Disney Princess Half Marathon circled in my calendar since last October. And I studiously planned a full scale Scottish adventure with my sister for this Spring.

Knew it!


I had even hoped that maybe, just maybe, we could get away this Labor Day weekend, even if for just 3 days. You could probably already guess that my dreams were smashed by overcrowded and overpriced destinations.


There are currently more pressing needs right now. Like shoes and pants. Both which are getting worn down and showing major holes. My shoes are getting so bad that I had to superglue the heel and the shoe together. At work. For real.

I thought that the duct tape would have clashed with my outfit.


Oh, and I really want one of these:

Dogs with hyperopia need love too!


Oh! And my thighs would thank me if I finally put down some cash for one of these:

But there are bills to be paid, rent to be divided up, and groceries to be eaten (or destroyed in a poor attempt to make country fried steak). So, for right now, I’m just going to dream. The weekends are always the best time to reflect on just how 20-something-poor you really are…


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