You know the drill, peeps. Play along. I dare you.

48534532 The number of times I looked at the Falls in Niagara.

3 The number of times I found them interesting or fascinating. Huh. Who knew? I’m not such a fanatica of the wonders of nature.

12 The number of the 24 pounds lost that I have managed to put back on since mid-May.

1 Day of new “diet.”

0 Number of pounds lost so far. Yeah, I can dream.

489573761234 Number of times (in the past few weeks) I’ve worried about Little Man starting full-day kindergarten the second week of September.

489573761234 Number of times I’ve said, “Holy shit! School starts, like, fecking soon, dooooooods,” (in the past few weeks).

486023234 Number of headaches I’ve nursed/drugged/drunk (or is it drank?) away as a result of said worrying. Turns out Head On is really expensive when you use it like cherry Chapstick.

0 Number of girls I’ve kissed (see above reference to cherry Chapstick). If you don’t get this reference, you’re either really, really old or living under a rock. Come on out. You’re missing out on a bunch of shit.

1 Number of Little Man’s “stuffies” (stuffed dust-collectorsanimals) that went missing while in Niagara F. WTF? Really? Yes, really.A new one has been purchased on Ebay and is (insert finger quotes) “coming in the mail because the hotel found it for us and is mailing it, though it may take a couple of weeks to get here and it also, by chance, might look really new-ish and have a tag attached because the hotel fairies like to take stuffies and turn them into New Stuffies, but don’t worry, it’s definitely YOUR stuffie.” (end finger quotes)

1 Number of my cheap, WalFart flip flops that also went missing from said hotel room. WTF, Hilton? Really?  Couldn’t you have at least made them both disappear?

1 Number of Coach purses purchased for myself at the Coach outlet in NF.

1 BILLION. Number of times Hubs has reminded me of his generosity.

1 BILLION. Number of times I’ve told Hubs to shove his generosity up his royal arse as he knows that when he “allows” me to purchase big ticket items, it results in an equal amount of frivolous dollars being spent on his stooooooopid  charming hobby.

1 BILLION. Number of times I’ve looked at my new bag and sighed as though I just had my first kiss.

2349582342113 Number of tranquilizers I think I’ll probably need to take before Little Man starts school in order to curb my ridiculous obsessing (yeah, looks like OCD IS contagious – I kid, I kid) over every detail. Will he eat his lunch? Will he pee? Will he starve to death or just come home every day with a horrid belly ache due to non-food-consumption? Will he get some kind of infection from holding in his pee from 8:30am until 3:30pm, 3 days per week? Will he hate me for sending him to full-day kindergarten? Will he be able to actually function in all-day kindergarten, because, God, I need a fecking break and really, really want him to go to all-day kindergarten? Will he be an outcast because he likes to collect garbage? Will he…?

I’m tired.