Today I am over at Five Full Plates, bragging about how I’m getting myself back into the fitness groove I loathe so much. It’s going surprisingly well, actually. I meant, except for the part where I nearly died. (I didn’t really nearly die. I just felt like I was going to. Because I’m a drama queen.)
Extra bonus unrelated story snippet: Part of Monkey’s accommodation at school is that he has a laptop so he can keyboard instead of writing. His laptop also has Internet. And Monkey spends a lot of time on his laptop, because he’s allowed to use it whenever he’s done with his work, and Speedy Gonzalez there is often sitting around waiting for his classmates to finish up. Well. I found out he’d been Googling me and reading the blog (really, I didn’t expect that to happen for a few years). So I emailed the teacher to ask that his Internet usage be monitored, and she assured me that it was, and I assured her that it was not, because he’d admitted to reading stuff he shouldn’t, and she got kind of defensive and said the school filters would prevent that, and I told her “yes, but I’m writer, and I write for an adult audience, and he’s apparently been reading me from school. And now you think I write porn, but really I don’t, I just would prefer he not read my writing… oh, God, the more I protest the worse this sounds.”
She… did not respond to that email. So when I sent Otto off to curriculum night last night, I yelled after him, “Please make sure she knows I don’t write porn for a living!” Yeah.