No one enjoys waking-up at 5:30 am to the sound of a ringing telephone and their former typing teacher's voice on the other end announcing there is a two-hour delay.

Perhaps under other circumstances, I'd welcome the heads-up. But I don't have other circumstances. If I awake prior to 7:30, it's a very early day. And also, we are denying our children the excitement of watching the very slow school postings on television. The waiting with bated breath to see if our school district is one of the lucky few to get the small reprieve. Inevitably, you would have narrowly missed whether or not you won the delay lottery and you would have to sit through the entire alphabet of schools, only to have it confirmed that per usual, your school district was the only one operating on a regular schedule.

Spell-check sometimes baffles me. The solutions offered seem to bear(bare? No, bear.) little resemblance to actual words. Do they have it programed to make themselves laugh? Haha! When they type in "hve," I'm going to put up "hippocratic" as a possible spelling solution! And yes, I cannot spell and I cannot type. So how my typing teacher has ended-up in such an exulted position is indeed puzzling.

Wow. I am a rusty writer this morning.

I didn't want to have to address this, but I also don't want to get on the treadmill. So, here goes:

Dear makers of the brassiere,

Once upon a time, bras did the job they were made to do. Period. No one had to give them a second thought except to make sure you weren't wearing a black one under a white shirt and vice versa. Now, however, I can not find a good old-fashioned bra to save my life. I do not want to "increase your bust by a full cup size!" I do not want to look as though I have gotten implants. I do not want to jack my chest-up to such ridiculous proportions that I cannot button a shirt. (That one is a true story, by the way, and should demonstrate how ridiculous the padding in bras has become.) Dude. I am fine with my natural self. Luckily, I have 107 years (in bra years that is) of wearing normal pre-Wonderbra, pre-Victoria's Secret proportioned bras. So, I know there was indeed a time when it was considered okay to look like yourself. Please, please, please can one stinking company return to that time? Or at least make a line of bras that hearkens back to the early 90s? You can call it The Prude line. For women who want to button their shirts.

On one of my marathon bra searches, I thought i had finally found normal bras, tucked away down in the corner of the store, closest to the floor. I laid flat on my stomach and reached back into he bowels of the bra rack, finally extracting what I thought was my size. Just a bra. No padding. No enhancing. No looking like I'm saving my pennies until I can finally afford those implants.

However, my hand emerged grasping...a training bra. The only bra that wasn't padded to high heaven was a mofo training bra. Good grief.