Snow, sore and SuperBowl Sunday

I was starting to feel more relaxed about our holiday, but we had two inches of snow last night so now I’m worried that our flights might be cancelled..
Someone at work told me that your body reacts exactly the same way to excitement as it does to anxiety, and it’s how your mind interprets those signals that determines whether you get anxious or excited. I’ve never been a fan of amateur psychology, but maybe they’re right and I’m actually really excited about the holiday but my mind is playing tricks on me.
Either way, this time next week we’ll be there and hopefully I can chill out a bit and get on with it.

Philippa is a bit narked off about her ankle. Due to the nature of the injury, and the nature of her sport, it’ll be at least another month before she can play badminton again. So she’s moping around the house a bit, whining and trying not to put on weight. It’s like dating a limping Cheryl Cole. We’re off to Ted and Beryl’s later so she can drink lots of white wine and cheer up a bit.
I was hoping Ted might sit up with me tonight to watch the SuperBowl but he doesn’t want to “miss out on sleep watching gay man’s rugby.” Philippa offered to watch it with me but I don’t want to spend most of my time explaining the game to her, only for her to fall asleep at 2am and snore through the fourth quarter. So I’ll be on my own. Just me, lots of coffee, and a very large bag of supermarket salted peanuts. Perfect, in a way..

RC 5-2-12