Road to Recovery

After attempting to kill myself at the beginning of the week, I wasn't quite sure how the rest of my working vacay would end.  Fortunately, I finished my painting without further incident on Friday afternoon.  As such, I was able to attend IF's homecoming parade where Bub pulled in 3 tons of assorted cheap candy which we finished munching on today.  I also was able to complete my assignment to help the marching band in the concession stand that night.  Before I even made it to the stand, my 2015 dream came true when I finally grabbed the IF tiger for a selfie:

I'm sure if he could have expressed himself as he wished, he would have thanked me for my enthusiasm.  Unfortunately, his role of mascot held his tongue captive.  Notice my daughter Hannah is NOT in my selfie?  She was horrified with my behavior and stayed to the right of the camera angle.

My evening in the concession booth was hot, chaotic, and miserable as usual.  I had my Kayley, who is one of the drum majors, dig my phone outta my bra to take this shot:

Every time I help out with concessions, I say a silent prayer to God thanking him for my advanced education and my comfortable paycheck so I will never have to work food service to support my family.  I also thank him for a supportive spouse who a decade ago said, "Yes!  Become a nurse midwife!"  Instead of, "Why in the hell would you want to be a nurse midwife?!"

After an embarrassing loss at the game, which didn't matter to me since I was only there for the band, I slept like a rock and got ready this morning to go to 42nd Street at the Capital Theater in Salt Lake City.  I assumed the play would be the highlight of my week.  However, I did not know Comic Con was also in town.  As such, the show outside the theater was far more interesting than the one inside.  I spied idiots in Star Wars gear fake sparring, weirdos in hobbit ears skipping through crosswalks, and the X-Men strolling around in droves.  My sexy man got a little excited when he saw this:

They could probably outrun him, but ten bucks says he could kick all their asses in close hand to hand combat.  I also got to take a Dr Who pic for my Hannah, but don't you dare accuse me of being a fan.  That weird show sucks!

It's now 11 pm and I'm driving home to catch a baby as we speak.  Despite my best efforts, the fun never ends, but I'm grateful I'm still alive to tell the tale!