A Funky Funk

When I was little we were never allowed to say "funky." To be honest, I don't know why; it wasn't like it was a bad word or anything. In my mother's eyes, saying that something is "funky" (unless referring to music) was just as bad as calling someone a "liar" or as bad as saying "what" or "huh" instead of "yes" or "ma'am" when your name was called. Sorry mom but today I am in a FUNKY funk.

Disclaimer:  If you came to my blog looking for inspiration, stop reading now. This post will be absurd. Completely absurd. I'm a crazy girl and I have LOTS of crazy girl moments.

I don't really know why I am in this funk really. Maybe it's the fact that I am turning 28 in 3 days. 28...wow, it feels like I was just 25, no, it's not 30...but it's 28. Where have the years gone. In three short years I have gotten married, quit my job, and had a baby. Maybe that's it...maybe it's that Jordan will be 2, yes, 2 in two weeks. My little baby isn't a little baby anymore. He is talking up a storm, throwing balls (sometimes at people), walking up the stairs with no hands...the list goes on. I am proud of the child he has become.

The more I think about it my funk resembles that of a 5 year old tantrum-sans the tears. I want to be left alone with my book, my Chipotle, and my remote control. Ha-wouldn't that be nice.

Well, that funk was nice...break is over...Jordan needs a bath.