The RoadID that came.

On this blog, I'm usually honest. I may hide my unhappiness for certain things, and put on a fake aura of perfection, but it's usually when I'm super sensitive and don't feel like throwing a pity party on the blogosphere.

As someone who occasionally runs because it's cheaper than a gym membership or yoga studio, I don't really think about the potential for what could happen when I'm running on the coastal highway, around my neighborhood, or within the confines of base. I assume I'm perfect, my form is ideal, and the only injury I could face would be a rolled ankle from pot holes. No one wants to think about being rolled by a car. Pretty much.

So after months of mocking up a RoadID slim bracelet - I finally pulled the trigger. It may also be part of the motivation from this blogger's incident that scared me into spending the $15 to potentially save my life. We're getting real around here. Mr. Wookie recently filled out the mountain of paperwork since deployment is slowly approaching. Nothing is more sobering than end-of-life decisions. And we don't like sober. We like cocktails. Just kidding. Sometimes.

Oh, and thanks to the previous tenants for the NEX flyers. Umm...how awesome can mail day be?!? Okay, yes, I could be #winning the Publishers Clearing House - but sadly, that hasn't happened yet. And probably never will. So until then, I'll dream big. And by that, I mean dream of a dating an old man with billions in trust fund accounts that will be left to me after he quickly croaks. Anna Nicole knew what she was doing. And that's #winning.