We're off to see the Army, the wonderful Army of Terracotta

So due to my lack of memory recall, I got up one whole hour before I needed to....ARGGGGGGGGGGG.  We are bravely going to bring 4 children to see the Terracotta Army today at the High Museum of Art in Atlanta.  There are three adults, but the children still out number us.  *sigh*  Honestly, you can't just buy tickets anymore.....now you must buy tickets to purchase Time for the exhibition you are about to see.  What the hell is that?  Remember when life was so much more simpler?  You buy tickets, you go see the event, you go home.  Easy.  Straightforward. Now b/c we bought tickets for the 11:30 slot, we can't leave the house for another hour.  Irritating seriously.  So we are sitting around waiting and I am typing about this meaningless crap. But, I digress.     

I am sure the day will be filled with fond memories, and by fond I mean I will remember none of this day except for the coolness we will see at the exhibition.  I might remember my 2 yr old when he screams.   Unfortunately.  Hopefully my 7 and 5 yr old will appreciate today.  Our 2 yr old might recall something of today as my 6 month old will remember nothing I am sure.  Unless of course he is really a genius and his photographic memory is recording all of the days events which in 2 months time he will proudly recall every detail of today......

So brace yourselves for the reason for this mumbo jumbo......I am really just trying to kill some time as the children yell to catch my attention and push and shove their way to sitting next to me at the computer, wishing I was still in bed and that I had correctly remembered what time we were supposed to be at the High.  

First and foremost

I have no idea what I am doing.  Except this feels oddly familiar to being an angst ridden teenager writing, "Dear Diary"  except now I am 30 yrs old, I no longer open with Dear Diary, I am not using a pen and paper, but the more technical and "grown up" version of writing, which is not writing at all but typing..... and I am no longer angst ridden, but dare I say......happy?  Huh, so what then should or could I write about?  I guess we will all find out......