Passing The Test

I am sitting on my big, blue, bloggy couch staring at my computer screen. I am at a total loss regarding what I should write about today. My weekend was chock-full of excitement, but unfortunately I’m in one of those moods where I can’t seem to pull my thoughts together.

Though I could talk about the fact that our fancy front-loading washer is LEAKING AGAIN after two freakin’ service calls from Sears, I won’t even go there.

I’m watching American Idol (from last week) but honestly, I don’t dare get started on that because I can’t get past Nicki Minaj and her fake eyelashes yammering on about ladybugs.

Have I mentioned I’m in a miserable mood?

Friday marked the last day of the biggest loser – Mission SLIMpossible challenge. The group will convene for the last time on Saturday for the finale. And before you spend your week wondering, I can tell you, without a doubt that it wasn’t me. Several of us losers met for dinner on Saturday night and one of the guys there proudly announced that he had lost 40 pounds over the course of the competition. Shortly after that I learned that he happens to be married to the personal trainer who was giving the losers advice when we weighed in on the first day of the competition.

Oh, and by the way, thinking about that just made my miserable mood worse.

I’ll be revealing my results later in the week when I can dedicate an entire post to my successes.

The highest point of my weekend came this morning when I received a text from McDaddy.

For months – and by months I mean pretty darn near a year – McDaddy has spent MOST nights studying his pea-pickin’ heart out for a series of SEVEN tests which he must pass to make Lieutenant Colonel. This morning, at 9 AM EST, he was scheduled to take HIS very last test in this seven test series. I listened in on several of the videos he had to watch, but if I told you what was contained in them I’d have to kill you.

His text, in part, said, “Passed the test”

To which me and the boys whooped and hollered like crazy people in the laundry room.

Just an hour earlier the three of us gathered on the couch to pray that God would help McDaddy think clearly and remember everything he had spent months reading. This has been a long, stressful, tedious road for him and I am so glad that it is finally over for him.

And if that’s not a good note to end on, I don’t know what is.