Remember how I am going to be a professional writer this summer?  Well, it's now the third week of summer, and so far I've been a general contractor, party planner, hostess, and (obviously) minivan driver.  As long as I'm bragging, let's add "marginally effective dog trainer" and "full-time, mostly-not-exasperated parent."

I haven't exactly made a boatload of progress on the writing, but - and this is the important part- I haven't given up.  Further, I recommitted to my well-being.  In the wake of the weekend's bachelorette party in honor of my lovely, 30 year-old sister (I accidentally told another mom at Mac's swimming practice that I "chaperoned" the party, rather than "hosted" it), I'm recommitting to fitness.  

My friend Ali took a look at my outfit this morning and asked, "You going for a run?"

"Yes," I said, vehemently.  "I'm fat, bloated, and old."

"I hear you," she said, laughing.  "And one run will fix that."

It didn't fix it, but it's a start.  And now, I'm drinking a green smoothie and typing words on my computer.  Things are looking up.