I received an invite from a friend for this Diet Bet thing. I hadn't heard of it before. I've been thinking about losing some weight for awhile now, but I'm busy.

I thought about it last night. Yep. I'm busy. That's what I said while I unwrapped the Snickers bar. It was fun size, relax. Except the Trick or Treaters were pretty sparse last night and I have a whole bowl of fun size that's going to continue to make my size not so fun.

Oops, no more time to think about it now. One of the babies is crying. We have two of those things. They will be 6 months old this week, and I haven't slept worth a damn in more than half a year. Obviously my body needs that Crap-a-Frap-a-chino to get me through until lunch. And the donut is only 99 cents when you buy a coffee! 800 calories for breakfast? Well, I probably won't have time for lunch.

Shoot. Nothing fits. Hey! I still have those maternity shirts I wore last winter. And I still look pregnant in them! Swell. 

Of course this morning, of all mornings, someone saw my bumper sticker and decided to comment. 13.1! That's awesome. What races have you done? I'm guessing they're trying to call my bluff, because I sure as heck don't look like I could stand up to run 13.1 miles. I wonder if I could still even run a 5k? I used to clock 15-25 miles a week. That was pre-fertility treatment. Pre-pregnancy. Pre-6-month-old-twins.

I miss me. I love my life, and I love my family and those sweet, teething, don't sleep, drive me to drink all the wine twins of mine. But I miss me.

But I don't have time.

Or do I?