Yes, this is definitely one of those days that the journal would be entry-less if not for the challenge of holidailies. One of those days where nothing was too spectacular or interesting. Nothing was too terribly out of the ordinary or worth spending too many sentences on.

We posted four bodies this morning: a murder/suicide, a week-old decomp (peeyoo!), and a man with a heart the size of Kansas (sometimes a big heart is not a good thing.)

On the way home from work I spent half an hour dialing the number to a local radio station because I KNEW the answer to their quiz. For half an hour the DJ kept coming on and urging people to keep trying because no one was getting it right. I never did get through, and someone else won the prize. Phooey.

I went to the gym and worked out. Have I mentioned that I totally frickin' hate my gym? Well, I totally frickin' hate my gym. We had to leave my wonderful metal-head powerlifting gym because there was no childcare, and so we transferred to a more popular mega-gym which has fantastic childcare. I love the childcare, but hate the gym itself. It's not friendly at all. No one talks to anyone else. The cardio machines are always crowded, and I hate the way the free weight room is laid out. Hmmph.

Anyway, I worked shoulders and abs, then did half an hour of cardio. Woo.

Picked up the kid, then went home, made a turkey sandwich, and helped Anna go poopoo on the toilet. Anna sometimes has a hard time getting things to come on out when she's on the potty, and so when it's a tough one she wants me to hug her while she's trying. So, I knelt on the bathroom floor and murmured encouragement to her and hugged her and rubbed her lower back while she valiantly pushed out a respectable fart.

I gave Anna a bath and then Jack took her upstairs to put her to bed. Anna is such a creature of routine and habit that Jack and I have decided that it works best if just one person attempts to do certain things. When he puts her to bed it takes a whole ten minutes to get her to sleep. When I try, it takes and hour and a half. On the other hand, in the mornings, I can get her fed, dressed, combed and brushed in nothing flat, while he ends up dealing with shrieking meltdowns if he tries it. Anna knows when things aren't being done just right.

And finally, as I listened on the monitor to Jack reading Anna a bedtime story, my youngest stepdaughter called to tell me that she felt lousy and had thrown up but she'd just started her period and maybe that was it and what did I think she should do? I wondered briefly why she wasn't asking her mother this, but I think that my role with her has become one of much-older-big-sister, and I guess sometimes you just need sometime to say, Yeah, that sucks, and you should try taking an Aleve and lie on a heating pad, because when I start MY period I feel like crap the first day too and drink lots of water and eat something plain like crackers. And that's not really the kind of thing you can hear as easily coming from your mother, I think. I dunno, but I thought it was kinda cool that she called me wanting some commiseration.

So now Anna is asleep, I'm getting ready to watch the episode of "30 Rock" that I recorded on the DVR earlier, and I'm finishing up this post.

See? Not much to the day.