I am a weeny.
After watching the 15 “best” Sh*t People Say videos (I put in quotations because I only found 3 of them funny), you really start to think about what someone might say in a video all about you. My kind, sweet, boyfriend came up with a lot. Here’s the shortlist:
“Owiee my finger hurts”
“Owiee my feet hurt”
“Owiee there’s something in my eye”
“Can you see if there’s something in my eye?”
“I’m ti ti” (abbrev. for tired… try it in a sentence... I promise you’ll never say the more boring “I’m tired” again)
…Five minutes later: “I’m hungry”
I am such a weeny.
|Poor thing. I feel ya.|
The word “weeny” was coined by Bill Wyman, a good soul who has lived almost all his life surrounded by women (good thing he spent his college and post-college years with male roommates… though he ended up being the only one to ever clean the place so I think he may actually prefer living with women. Not to mention, we are sooo easy to live with). When you live with
hormonal women, you come up with words like “weeny” to describe everyday behavior. Like when you complain about having to mow the lawn in the New Jersey August heat when your dad definitely doesn’t have to pay you $20 to do it. Or when you ask your dad to get you a coke because you’re too lazy to get off the couch and walk 20 feet to get it yourself (In my defense, I’m pretty sure Full House was on at the time. I can’t be worrying about getting my own soft drink when Uncle Jesse is playing the acoustic guitar).
|I need more hair gel.|
Admittedly, I’ve known for quite awhile that I’m a weeny. I get cranky when I’m hungry or tired, which is sometimes a lot considering I need to be fed every few hours with at least eight hours of sleep (if you reread the latter portion of the last sentence, it sounds like the description of a toddler).
There is one category, however, where I think those closest to me would I agree that I am most definitely not a weeny in – and that’s running. I’m a firm believer that if you have run a marathon, you can at least be free from scrutiny in that department. I love running for the way it makes me feel mentally and physically, but it also warrants a lot of eating and sleeping (thus, less crankiness).
So, to prove this week that I am not always a weeny, here’s photographic evidence that I got my lazy butt out of bed before work and actually ran.
But now, I’m really ti ti.
What are you going do this week to prove you’re not a weeny?