It's done...

finally. I got so much stuff done today. My Christmas shopping is done. I'm starting to feel kind of like Jayhawk, getting stuff done early. Although, I'll admit none of my stuff is wrapped yet, so she's ahead of me on that.
I also got my application to volunteer with Girls on the Run finished. I've only been working on that for about a week now. I never really know how to answer the questions on things like that. What exactly are they looking for anyway? Now I kind of feel like I felt when I ran for student government. Will they call me? What if they call me? What if they don't call me? Do I really want to do this?
Then I ask myself, if it's run strictly on volunteers, do they ever really turn anyone down? Then I realized that even if they don't want me to work with them, it's their loss, not mine, and thus the waiting commences.
I also got my Christmas cards addressed today. (If I don't have your address and you'd like to get your card, better send me the address of yo' crib) Now, before you all start bashing me, I did not say I actually made out my Christmas cards, just that I addressed them. Although, I do think that I'm going the slacker route this year, and saying that if I've spoken to you on the phone in the past month, you're just getting a card that says "Love the Johnsons" inside. I'm so past the write a novel in my cards stage. Who's got time for that shite?
Last topic for today, I promise. The photo from yesterday has brought up some interesting questions. In short: There was more to that photo than just my leg, however, as I looked especially yucky in the rest of the picture (since I was about three seconds away from ralfing when it was taken) I chose to crop the ucki-ness out of the pic so that you could all focus on the extreme gnarliness that was my leg. I also chose to zoom in on said gnarliness so that you could appreciate it even more. Despite it's gross factor of 10+, whatever it is that was going on with my leg did not hurt, or if it did, it was severely overshadowed by my almost puking all over the shoes of the person who was handing me my medal.