If I was truly, brutally honest with myself, I’d have to admit that I am not perfect. *gasp* Shocking, I know. But amoungst one or two things that I could fine tune about me, is my ability to lose track of time.
Oh, I have excuses … like the never ending pile of work and deadlines, chatting with my Mom on the phone, not being able to find the outfit that I want to wear (that may be an issue for another day, pertaining to putting my laundry away), wallowing in the tub, the phone always ringing as I try to leave the house, forgetting to eat, forgetting the car is out of gas, needing to check that the stove is off twelve times … Regardless, it’s getting out of hand and it needs to stop.
Photographer: Toni Verdú Carbó
And it seems the powers that be were telling me just that this morning, as I headed out for a hike … late as usual. I just wanted to finish that one last thing on the computer and, of course, I’d forgotten to eat, yet again. So I grab a quick bowl of porridge and raced for the car. Yes, I know there are many things wrong with that statement, like when was I going to eat said bowl of porridge, not to mention the fact that I decided the safest place for it was directly on my lap.
As I began to drive, I thought, “what a lovely warm bowl of porridge.” That was until the warmth started traveling down my upper thigh. I looked down. I picked up the bowl. My crotch was covered in warm milk.
Did I mention it was a Singles Hiking Group I was joining?
If you’re wondering if I went or not, I did. It was a beautiful day, any man that can’t get the humour in a milk covered crotch probably shouldn’t be with me, and lululemon pants dry fast (or at least that’s what I decided).
Thinking time management may be a good topic to tackle in my next session with Jennifer Priest.
Kisses,
Emme xoxo
