There's something very wrong with that photo. You know what it is? The font they chose for the jersey. That's the only thing that bothers me about that picture. Who chose that? Are all the new Nike designed NFL jerseys going to look like that? These are the things that keep me up at night. Not that it just cost me $65 to fill up the minivan, and not that our beloved QB is no longer a Colt. Just the font. I'm a disturbed woman.
Things have been crazy busy here as usual, and I just haven't been able to locate the time to keep the blog updated. But then a friend's MOM posted on facebook that I hadn't updated in a while and that she worries about me when I go for long stretches without updates and I simply can't have that on my conscience. I'm already up all night over that damn wonky jersey font and I can't add Mrs. Glynn being worried about me to the list. So Peggy, if you're out there, I'm OK. Freakishly transfixed by weird jersey fonts, but OK.
In fact, I just had my yearly physical yesterday and my doc was super impressed with my vitals. I apparently have the resting heart rate & EKG of a professional athlete. He says to me, "Really, I'm amazed at your vitals. It's just so strange that you had cancer." and I was like, "I KNOW." It was strange that I had cancer. One of the things keeping me busy over the past few months has been working with the local affiliate of the Young Survival Coalition trying to improve the lives of newly diagnosed young women. My hope is that we help each young breast cancer survivor reach the point where she feels weird about her cancer. OK, that didn't sound right. To clarify, when I say it now feels strange that I had cancer, I mean that I feel like I have put enough space between treatment and today that looking back it almost feels like it happened to someone else. Very weird, but in a good way. I want other young survivors to feel weird in a good way. I'm still not making sense. It's that damn font. They're going to have to do something about that if I'm going to be staring at it all season long.
So, to wrap things up, I'm doing well, the kids are doing great, I hate the font on Peyton's new jersey, and I've been busy trying to make other women feel weird.
Reading all this back, I suspect Mrs. Glynn was probably less concerned about me yesterday than she is today.
