All I wanna do is have some fun...

Yes, I got Sheryl Crow's greatest hits CD at the library. And I have deeply enjoyed turning it up and singing with her at the top of my lungs.

Friday rolled around and I told Robb that I felt like if we didn't do something fun, my mental health was really not going to be um....mentally healthy. I'm not particularly good at having fun. I'm way too serious about everything and I get pretty morbid when left to my own devices. By Thursday of last week, I was pretty sure there was absolutely no point to human existence and that life was only a long, tortuous battle with failure to be endured for the sake of the future reward of imminent and peaceful death.

I'm only a little bit kidding.

He tool me seriously and dragged my sorry hiney to the Catfish Hole where we had all you could eat catfish and the most amazing hush puppies (the only hush puppies?) I've ever eaten. We followed this with a trip to Fast Lanes where we bowled. And you know how I loves me some bowling! There is something so dang satisfying about throwing a big heavy thing and knocking things down....not to mention the sight of Charleigh in bowling shoes. And because we weren't counting calories, we stopped at Dairy Queen for what we lovingly refer to as Barn Busters....with all their chocolatey salty peanutty goodness. I slept like a baby.

And when Saturday dawned, I woke up feisty and ready to take something else on...so my hair salon was opened for business and Mattie got the big haircut she kept asking me for...which resulted in her looking 14 years old which gave me a heart attack. And then I got out the mower and attacked Vin's head. It was the longest his hair has ever been and I'm kicking myself for not taking a picture. He hopped off the chair and Rod Blagojevich (or so he said) joined me. I just took a hedge-trimmer to him and a much happier husband emerged. And then I colored my own hair. Therapy, I tell ya.

Later that evening, I escaped with a friend who will remain nameless to see a show at the Walton Arts Center that will remain nameless where we laughed very hard and hid our faces behind our programs when stuff that will remain unsaid happened. And then we had coffee and laughed some more. And I shed about 20 years. Which makes me...15. Yeah, that's about right.

And then we had church and it was full and good and we all tried to pretend that Robb didn't use the phrase "getting over the hump of the honeymoon." We all acted like we didn't hear anything amiss until after church when we teased him to death. We had lunch with dear friends and ended up spending the whole afternoon together, just being happy to hang out. Came home and fell asleep in front of the most boring Oscars of all time and woke up ready to be productive.

And strangely enough, it seems like maybe life might be an okay thing after all.