Cookie Butter for Sally

It’s tough being away from my family so much, but living in a hotel with a bunch of nurse friends is a truly educational experience. For one thing, nurses have absolutely NO SHAME. No topic is off limits, no matter how graphic, and we’ve been known to travel in jovial irreverent groups to the local pharmacy to pick up embarrassing prescriptions and creams while discussing the merits and pitfalls of female hygiene products and the possible status of each other’s liver. It’s entertaining as well as enlightening.

One of my friends introduced me to a new mini workout. It’s super short but high on giggle factor. Here’s the deal: you play the song Flower by Moby, and when it says “bring Sally down”, you go into a squat and hold it until the “bring Sally up” line. Bonus points if you can do this across from a fellow squatter without laughing at their contorted struggle face. It sounds fairly easy, doesn’t it? That’s what I thought too.   My friend had me do the squat version twice, then we lost our sanity and decided leg lifts were a good idea. The walls around here are super thin, and I can only imagine what it sounded like to the random passerby.  Being so out of shape, I’m easily hobbled by things like squats, and lowering myself onto commodes has consequently become an Olympic sport. I have nothing nice to say about that Sally chic. We are NOT friends and frankly I don’t care to hear from her ever again.

Now before you go thinking my girlfriend is a good influence for introducing Sally and I, let me give you the unabridged version of the story. I took said friend to The Fresh Market last night, which as you may know is slam full of healthy and exotic awesome. Did we buy the adorable mini zucchinis? Nope. How about the fancy fruit kabobs? Guess again. My beloved nurse friend, bless her sweet heart, dragged me past all that beautiful healthy swag, and sold my soul to the sugar coated devil known as Biscoff Cookie Butter.

That’s right, Cookie Butter. As in, some heartless genius decided to grind cookies into peanut buttery bliss for your spreading pleasure. Now you can spread cookies on your cookies, and slather butter on your Bundt cakes. I know. It’s pure euphoric evil. And so is the girlfriend who introduced me to it. I’m going to need the fire department to cut me out of my hotel room soon, and that’s downright embarrassing. There’s no possible way my girl Sally can keep up with that kind of buttery competition, and so the struggle continues.

Maybe I’ll have more luck when my work life isn’t so full of travel. I’m missing so much and the mom guilt involved in that is pretty fierce. So far, I’ve missed a field trip, a visit from the tooth fairy, and the yearly ritual of filling out Valentines for elementary school friends: Minions with tattoos for my boy, and Doc McStuffins with pencils for my girl. Happily, they each saved a Valentine to give to mommy, and that actually made up for most of the missing.

As much as I’m sad to be away, there’s a certain amount of pride that comes from knowing my family is holding it down at home. I have my guy to thank for that. His supportive attitude makes it possible for me to go out and become. I know that a gift like that is not to be taken lightly, and I’m grateful and proud to be part of that team. We’re gaining traction these days and making progress towards dreams that were entirely impossible not so long ago. It’s worth it, not because of the dreams themselves, but because of the dreamers who share the journey. I hope I can do them justice, and live up to the beautiful future we’ve dreamt up together. They’re in my heart all the time, and I can’t wait to be back in the thick of it alongside them. For now, I’ll fend off the Biscoff alone, and try not to let Sally destroy me.

Say No To Cookie Butter. Save Yourselves!

The Glittery Nurse