Ostriches

pretty cute for a dinosaur, actually.

 

This is hopefully going somewhere. Bear with me.

 

Did you know that ostriches are the fastest land animal? They have a top speed of about 70 kmph, and can maintain a speed of about 50 kmph. They have a vicious kick (but then again, how could they not? They must be 3/4 thigh and 1/4 neck, leg and beak) and according to Mike Rowe, they go docile if you cover their eyes with giant black tube sock. Ostriches do not actually stick their heads in the sand when they are scared. Frankly, that is just about the stupidest idea any prey animal could have. I mean, really. It’s called a flight or flight response, not a fight or bury your head in the sand response.

Anyway.

The only thing I have in common with ostriches is a lie. When the proverbial lion is coming for me, I hide my face like a child with a monster under the bed. The proverbial lion being stress. It’s been a freight train these last few weeks.

 

It’s all out of my hands at this point. It always was out of my hands, but I’m reaching the point where I think I can accept that fact and just move on. Better late than never, right? Amen.

 

Things freaking me out in no particular order, that I cannot control:

• The weather. According to the Weather Channel it is currently 59 F in Seattle now. Yesterday in mid afternoon it was “warm” enough that I noticed I was sweating. According to the weather, it was 66 F. Lies. It had to be at least 72. That’s my sweat point (like a personalized version of the dew point). Regardless, how messed up is this summer that I’m sweating in the low 70s? Please turn this isht around, beginning 7/24 (that would be AFTER Ragnar, thanks)
• Ragnar. A lot of it is a giant freaking question mark. Question marks give me indigestion.
• Friends. Some people’s behavior is starting to grate. To be fair, it is not new behavior. It’s my personal stress level that is making me an intolerant bitch. This one is on me. So I’m keeping my mouth relatively shut, because God knows I’m nothing but a collection of flaws myself and it’s nothing worth ruining relationships over.
• two women were assaulted less than a block from my house a few weeks back. This will get its own post because of all the things I want to metaphorically set on fire about the whole incident.
• My mother in law. And not in the usual way. I’m not really sure how in-depth I want to go with this now, or at any point in the future. I’d say we are at Code Amber. The day it hits Code Mauve it will take center stage on my blog. No. It will get its own blog.  And it will be chock full of TEH CRAZAY.
• I’m waiting on a package from Canada. I made the purchase in mid-June, just in time for Canada Post to go on strike. So I’m waiting. And getting annoyed because I don’t have tracking information on it.
• My running form has been BAD since the end of May. Remember that in memoriam post? The day I found out I went for a run and it was like someone had replaced my delicately sized feet with a pair of hooves. Every run since then has been clomping and stomping and generally sucking ass. Until last week. I had a FANTASTIC run. My midfoot strike reappeared from left field. It was beautiful. Amazing. Glorious. Except that it seems to have royally pissed off my right ankle. I mean, this bitch! I’ve been icing on and off for days. I ran the Warrior Dash on it, and it’s doable, just not ideal. I can suck it up and run on my ankle. I’m not worried about that. It will slow me down, but c’est la vie.
• I still haven’t updated my version of WordPress. I would like to, but I can’t back up my files or system of whatever it says to do. I would love to, except when I go to my account for my host IT WON’T LET ME LOG INTO THE SECTION FOR DOING A BACKUP. Apparently it isn’t the same as my main login info?!?! I don’t know. And now my dash is all funny looking. Dear WordPress, you are awesome. Quit freaking needing updates every 3 weeks. IT MAKES ME HATE YOU. Be warned, get it together by the end of December or I’m moving this blog somewhere else.
• That goes double for you, Plugins.

And now WordPress isn’t doing a word count on my post. So I have no idea how long this piece is because when I hit the ‘preview’ button it gives me a 404 message. And now I’m apparently reduced to the state that I’m live-blogging my blogging woes. Save yourself and go read something decent in case I just keep typing. I honestly can’t seem to stop.