Taking a break

I made a decision the other day.  It was a decision that has been brewing for a little while now.  I decided to take a Facebook break of sorts.

I think it was when I realized I was hiding more posts than I was reading that the decision was made.

Or maybe when I found myself holding back from typing those three little letters that my friend E interprets as "We're That Famous" (look at it...look at it...don't get it?  eh, oh well.) as a comment on someones photo or status or whatever.

Maybe it was when I started feeling really awful about myself...there are a lot of perfectly happy, wonderful people on Facebook who are so content!  so happy!  doing so great!  have the perfect life!  perfect job!  look perfect!

The decision could have been made while reading the 1/8 of posts on there where the perfectly unhappy had to rant, yet again, about their perfectly unhappy lives.

It could have been when I felt like Facebook was just another version of the high school popularity contest.  How many friends do YOU have?  How many "likes" or comments did your last status update get?

Then again, it could have been the moment when I realized that I didn't need to do this anymore.  I didn't need to read all the posts or see all the pictures.  I didn't need to feel bad about myself or get frustrated with other's political "insights" that are, in my humble opinion, very one-sided.  I didn't need to read all of that...I just didn't.

And so, I decided to take a break of sorts.  I will go on to check if there are messages from anyone, because that happens, or if there were posts left on my wall (another thing that DRIVES ME CRAZY!  I have email and there's the whole private message thing.  The whole world does not need to see the conversation between you and I!)  I check certain pages (Hey, RevGals!) and then I.sign.out.

The strangest thing has happened.  I'm not up-to-date on all my friends lives and, well, it's okay.

I don't think constantly about what I can post on Facebook to get the most "likes" because it.doesn't.matter.

I'm also not angry every time I sign out.  I don't feel as bad about myself, my just average life or my lack of "popularity".  Sure, I do miss seeing photos but I know how to look for those.  My conversations don't include "Did you see so-and-so's post on Facebook?" and I am perfectly happy.  Gosh, just writing this post I realized how much Facebook reverted me to my angst-y teenage years.  So don't want to go there again!

This break may last a long time...I may revert to my old ways or maybe my page will languish there unused for a long time.  I don't truly know.  At the moment, I am at peace...and that, my friends, is good.

Today

Today I missed the early commuter bus today by 30 seconds because:

1. I am a girl.
2. I got up 5 minutes late.
3. I could not decide what to wear.
4. Decided what to wear and then realized I had a "tan" line.  Changed mind on top.
5. Put on new top.
6. Went to leave and realized the fog was in.
7. Went back for a sweater.
8. I do not have a navy blue nor do I have an off white sweater.
9. Had an off white sweater that I wore three times and decided it was awful.
10. Donated it to Goodwill.
11. It's cold, I need a sweater.
12. Dilemma ensued.
13. Wearing white and off-white unsettles me.
14. Finally tore a white sweater off the hanger and refused to look in the mirror.
15. Raced out the door, sailed through the various lights until that one light.
16. Watched the bus turn up the street while sitting at that one light that would.not.turn.green.
17. Started writing a letter to the city about that stupid light in my head.
18. Light turned green.
19. Pushed the van ahead of me to park and ride.
20. Jumped out of car.
21. Watched bus pull away.
22. Sometimes it is a pain to be a girl.

Rules

I am a rule girl.  I follow the rules.  Yes, there are times when I like to push the boundaries of the rules (especially, these days, when it comes to understanding God, the Bible and Christianity) but I am a hard wired, follow the rules kinda girl.

One rule that I have been told all my life, and that has spawned many a fantastic sitcom episode, is that tasting food in the supermarket is forbidden.  You cannot pick up a bag of grapes, open the bag and taste one and then not buy the bag of grapes.  There is no taste testing in supermarkets...

Except yesterday, I was in the supermarket and I was looking at the grapes, and the lady working in the produce section looked at me and said, "taste one before you buy it."  WHAT?!?!  I know my face showed my complete lack of disbelief as I said "Are you serious?"  "Absolutely," she replied,   "we want you to. In fact, if you want to taste an orange, I'll go over and cut one open for you."  I looked around for the candid camera.  Not kidding.  I thought maybe an alarm would go off and the produce police would come out and fine me but I reached into the bag of grapes, with the produce person watching and tasted a grape.  No alarm bells, no produce police and no grapes.  They were sour, even the red ones.

I'm not sure how I feel about this change in rules and I honestly don't know if it's all supermarkets or just this one in town that wants us to taste test the produce before purchasing but I'll tell you what, I certainly appreciated not spending $4 on sour grapes yesterday.  As for the orange, well, I don't really like them anyway so I didn't take her up on the offer.  It is nice to know, though, that some rules are made to be broken.

Acronym's in my life

There are moments when I have to stop and just laugh at the absurdity of the world in which I reside.

In my job as an Administrative Assistant for District____ of Rotary International, I have had to learn a whole new lingo.  There is the District Governor, who can also go by DG.  The District Governor Elect or DGE.  The District Governor Nominee or DGN.  Now we have the District Governor Nominee Designate or DGND.  They, as a whole, are also known as the Governor String or the G-String.  I do not make this up.

There are a whole slew of people with the title of PDG or Past District Governor.  There are AG's who are Assistant Governor's for Area's...which completely confused me for the first six months where I kept calling the Assistant Governor's the Area Governor's.  The acronym still worked!

We also have the PE's aka President's-Elect and the PN or PEN (President Nominee or President Elect Nominee depending on the club).  

My personal favorite, though has got to be the Rotary International President or RIP.  Can anyone blame me when I see RIP John Henry and immediately wonder when I missed the memo that John Henry died?  PRIP confused the heck out of me to until I finally figured it out Past Rotary International President.  My head is spinning.

Now, I have only just grazed the surface of the acronym's that I must be familiar with to speak Rotary.  There is TRF and PHS, not to be confused with PHF (I think I made that one up) and SARs, which is not a disease in the world of Rotary, it's the Semi-Annual Reports which also means it's time to pay your dues. 

Rotary speak should not be confused with text speak, which is a whole world unto itself, especially if you are my Grandmother where "r dressing waiting fr u. hgs" means "Ranch dressing waiting for you.  Hugs".  I get ROFL (rolling on floor laughing) or LOL (laugh out loud), though I don't think people should actually use those acronyms when they are speaking...you know who you are.  If you actually have to say "LOL" instead of laughing out loud, then things must not really be that funny.  BTW is pretty well known as "by the way".  FML had me stymied for a little while (Sorry, my mother reads this blog, I'm not interpreting).  Once I figured it out though, I realized how incorrectly people use that one. Does a hang nail actually deserve something so severe as an FML?  I hereby declare that the 2nd most over used acronym, right behind the ever annoying LOL.

I remember using FYI on a paper for the youth group one time and the youth couldn't figure it out.  It's like they had never seen an episode of Murphy Brown in their life...please, you don't need to remind me that they probably hadn't.  (FYI=For Your Information, if you were wondering).  TGIF was made famous by the food chain.  But probably my most favorite acronym comes from a bouncy, trouncy, flouncy, pouncy, fun, fun, fun, fun, fun character...Tigger.

TTFN--Ta Ta For Now!

New normal

My journey to work today started in a car.  I drove from my house to the bus station and then caught the bus.  The bus dropped me off at the light rail station and I took the light rail to the Airport stop, where I crossed the street (in the rain) and got onto another bus.  This bus took me to the airport, where I walked from the bus stop to the...parking garage, where I located the car I was to pick up that I then paid an arm and a leg to drive out of the parking garage to work, all of 5 minutes away.  I left home at 6:40am and arrived at work at 8:55am.  I also got money and food during that time.

I worked from 9am-4:45pm.  At 4:45pm I went out and got into the car to drive home.  It took me 20 minutes to drive from work down the road about 8 blocks to the freeway entrance, where I then sat in stop and go traffic...and I got off at the airport exit and went to Target.  I walked out of Target at 5:48pm and got back into the car.  The stop and go traffic had eased some and I made my way home, where I walked into the door at 6:48pm.  That was after putting the gas pedal to the floor in order to get the car up the driveway because it had rained all day and the slurry seal is still causing some issues when it rains...in other words the tires have a hard time gripping the pavement and the tires slip, slip, slip.

It is now 8:17pm and I am watching UP! on TV and waiting for the clock to say 9pm so that I can go to bed and hopefully not wake up at 4:30am but the new "normal" time of 5:50am.  This night person is now a morning person-by-necessity-resisting-all-the-way.

Life has changed...that is all.

Pronouncement for the day

I drove to work today.  It was raining, even though the forecasters said it "wasn't going to rain in the South Bay until the evening on Tuesday."  Yeah, this is why I have a hard time believing weather forecasters.

Anyway, I drove to work and listened to the radio and came up with the following pronouncement for the day...

I do.not.care.about.Taylor.Swift.  I changed radio channels and they were all (except for my favorite DJ Ralphie on "the pig on the radio" aka KPIG) talking about Taylor Swift.  I do not care who is is dating or sleeping with.  I do not care about her ideas on relationships.  I do not like her music.  I do not want to listen to her.  I do.not.care.

And that is my pronouncement for the day.

Happy Tuesday!

Thought for the day

If you have a Christian fish, bumper sticker or anything else on your car that symbolizes your Christian faith on the rear end of your car, then it might be a good idea to, well, I don't know, follow the rules of the road.  What, a little too much to ask to follow all of those rules?  I get it, we're human, we make mistakes.  Could we start with one simply, itty bitty rule of the road?  When changing lanes or making turns could you please, pretty please with sugar on top USE YOUR BLINKER?!

That is all.

Ugh

11pm and I should be in bed.  Except tonight was Bachelorette Night at Fabulous Friend Debbie's house.  I still can't believe I am watching this show, but now I can't miss it!  Who will Emily choose?  How many times will we yell at the TV for the dumb things the guys say?  Why can't she see through these dudes?!  I am so ashamed...

Anyway, as I was leaving Indy the German Shepherd raced out the door ahead of me (with permission), raced down the street and was barking ferociously at something.  Both cats came running to the door, so it wasn't the cats.  It didn't take long before we knew what Indy was barking at.  Polecats, as my Grandpa O used to call them.  How did we know?  We smelled them.  Of course tonight because it was 100 degrees outside and a beautiful night, I drove the race car with the top down and open to the world.  My car was closest to the polecat encounter and it smelled really, really bad.  I came home and immediately threw everything I was wearing into the washing machine because I can't get that smell out of my nose and who wants to chance the smell is actually on my clothes?

 So it's 11pm and I'm doing laundry, express wash.  Hopefully I'll get to sleep sometime before I have to get up to go to work tomorrow.  Eh, who needs sleep anyway?

If you haven't figured out what a polecat is, here's a hint...

 

Dear Bachelorette Emily,

I have been sucked into the world that is the Bachelor and Bachelorette by some friends with whom I wish to spend time.  I would normally spend my Monday night watching NCIS reruns and checking out the latest information on Disneyland at Mouseplanet.com, perfectly content to let the Bachelor or Bachelorette never to cross my path.

Alas, I like my friends and want to spend time with them, so I find myself sitting for two hours as I watch you, Emily, "date" 20 different men.  I use the term "men" loosely, as some whom have wound up in your company are merely boys playing dress-up.

Now, this is only week three in Bachelorette world.  We went through round one, which was excruciatingly boring as 25 men came to your hometown to woo you.  Those of us sitting on the couch couldn't keep track of all the men at first.  We came up with nicknames for them.  Helicopter boy, egg dude, spiky hair, bad hair, Brazilian, Mushroom man, etc.  We were very happy to see you get rid of some of those guys.

Round two was the first "dates".  Wow.  First off, who uses a whisk to mix up chocolate chip cookies?  Methinks you don't bake very much, Miss Emily.  Ryan was sweet, we liked him.  The group date was cute, we all felt bad for Charlie.  The last date was just weird.  Seriously, a clock that you put wishes in with a guy you later dumped?  Strange.  Then came the 7 page letter from Ryan...he's not so sweet anymore.  He is now getting creepy.  But then that whole "meet and greet" time is just awkward anyway.  I don't know how you could possibly get to know any of these guys well, at all.

Here we are, though, at week three.  Some men have been eliminated and the vying for your attention has begun in earnest.  I can't remember who you dated first last night.  It was fine, though, seriously, enough with the dancing in the street with the latest country singer/band.  The group date was fascinating.  Your friends definitely asked some interesting questions and one of them needs to be watched closely (really, really closely).  She was totally hitting on Sean.  Take that under advisement.  And Ryan, he's getting too possessive too quickly.  Not liking him so much anymore.  Your date to Dollywood (which was eerily empty) with Arie was nice.  He's a nice guy, seems safe...but then it's too soon to tell.

Then came that meet and greet time.  We all cheered when Egg guy gave you the egg to smash.  That was good.  We all agreed that Brazilian guy needed to go...I have a Brazilian friend, that was not a communication issue, he knew exactly what he was saying.  The one I wanted to yell at you about, though, was the one you questioned and did.nothing.about.

Emily, when a guy tells you to basically shut up because you are talking too much (when he hasn't let you get a word in at.all.) the guy needs to go.  Helicopter boy needs.to.go.  He is slimy, too sure of himself and has said to your face that he always wanted his OWN child first.  HIS.OWN.CHILD.  You have a daughter that you say you are putting first...prove it!  Be the strong woman you have shown yourself to be in moments and drop his ass!

Sincerely,
A disgusted-with-myself-for-getting-hooked-into-this-show viewer.

Public Transportation

I love to drive.  I really like my car.  I enjoy the days when the weather is just right when the windows and the convertible top can be down and I can just drive and drive and drive...

Having a V8 Mustang Convertible can be a wonderful thing...until one tries to commute.  That's when the V8 engine becomes a gas hog of the worst kind and driving becomes not as fun.

I filled up my gas tank the other day.  $54.35.  That was after a week of driving of which two of those days did I actually commute 60 miles round trip, but that did it.  I've let the "low fuel" light come on a few times the last few weeks.  I know, I know, that's not a good thing. Welcome to my reality.

A week and a half ago I bought a bus pass.  For less than $7 per day and an added 45 minutes to an hour to my schedule, I am taking the bus and light rail.  What a whole new world.

I've shared, already, about the phenomenon of the bus.  Everyone lines up to file on IN THE ORDER THEY LINED UP, no one talks to each other.  The world of the bus is very interesting indeed.  The light rail, well, the light rail is a whole new world.

The Office Coordinators in my new office building have been very helpful when it comes to the light rail. They've answered my silly little questions.  They've also given me helpful hints like:

• Jaywalk.  Don't walk down and wait for the light's to change.  It will take forever.  Make sure it's clear and dash across the street.  Got it.
• Do not make eye contact.  Wear sunglasses all the time.  Inside and outside the light rail.  If you make eye contact, you will get hit on, hit up or someone will decide to talk to you incessantly.  Got it.
• Wear your headphones even if you aren't listening to anything.  People won't bother you.  GOT IT!!

It pays to make friends with the Office Coordinators.

Now, you may be wondering, "Brittany, why don't you want to talk to people on the light rail?"  Well, sometimes I do.  The harmless lady who said "nice weather today" was fine.  There is a difference though, between talking about the weather and hearing someones life story in the span of a 10 minute ride.  The guy with the eyes that jumped all over the place who swore he had never done drugs and gave me his phone number so that we could "chat" sometimes, not so much.  I don't want your number.  Don't make me hurt your feelings, PLEASE.  (See, I truly am a people pleaser.)

The light rail has character, or I should say the light rail carries lots of characters. 

The guy who talked loudly on his phone in Spanish and jumped up every so often to walk around before sitting back down was interesting.  I rode the light rail twice with him.

Monday a guy got on the light rail and talked to himself the whole ride, LOUDLY.  It was fine but the swearing was a little much.

Today there was a guy who was talking and clapping and singing along to whatever music was in his on his iPod.  The rest of us on the light rail probably could have sung along as well, his music was loud enough to hear. 

This morning, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the guy across the aisle stand up and put his hands down.his.pants.  I was freaked out for a moment, but he removed his hands and sat back down.  Whew.  He stood up again and his hands went to the waist of his pants again but this time he just adjusted them at the waist and sat back down.   I didn't look. No eye contact, remember?  I was more than ready to get off the light rail when my stop came. 

Unfortunately my stop happens to be the same stop for those heading to the probation office.  Sometimes these characters follow me off the light rail.  Which is why I decided jaywalking is fine.

Tonight, on the bus ride home, I felt sorry for the guy who obviously didn't have Office Coordinators to tell him the golden rules of public transportation.  He made eye contact and had no headphones and the guy who had just gotten released from the hospital and was heading home but needed to get his stuff from the fire station where he had been taken after getting jumped and then robbed and then...oh the story.  Poor, defenseless man heard the whole saga the whole 45 minute ride.  When I got off the bus, hospital man was still talking.  They had another 10 minute ride ahead.

Ah, the joys of public transportation.  It's almost better than a movie...but not really.

A dotty Tuesday post

• Left my cell phone sitting on a chair at home.  Realized it as I was heading out of town for work.  Oh well.
• Florescent lighting really highlights the grey (gray?) in hair.  I do not like it.  No man to wash out of my hair...gonna wash the grey (gray?) right out.
• Survived my first rainy day commute.  I am not a fan.  If I didn't have appointments or meetings before or after work this week, I would be taking the bus.  
• Ben deserves Courtney and Courtney deserves Ben.  Lindzi dodged a bullet.
• This office building that I'm in is interesting.  There are random groups that come in to use the conference rooms every week.  Yesterday was the four guys with the one tall blond woman.  The guys were drooling.  It was such a cliche.  She was nice, though.
• Guys talk really, really loud when they are trying to impress a woman.  The walls are thin, gentlemen, tone it down!
• The pants I am wearing today are too big at the waist.  I believe this is their last day of work.
• Speaking of work, I had better get to it!  Hope your day is great!

Just going to dinner

Yo Momma, G.G. and I went to dinner last night.  Fresh Choice was the choice.  :) 

When I sat down, I noticed a man sitting at a table with papers all around him.  It reminded me of someones office, which I found kind of strange at Fresh Choice on a Friday night.  I didn't ponder it much and went about enjoying my Fettuccine Chicken Noodle Soup...I love that soup!

Sometime later the man was joined by another man who was talking on his cellphone--which was on speakerphone.  His conversation started to get louder and louder with the person on the other end trying to remain calm.  There was a family with 2 kids at the table right next to this guy and yet still he was getting louder and louder until all of a sudden he says loud and clear "Well the s***heads down at the county office told me to file this piece of paper!!".

With that a gentleman at the table next to me was out of his chair and storming across the restaurant to the man on the phone.  I tried really hard not to stare as the gentleman looked at the guy on the phone and said "This is a restaurant, not your office.  Watch your language and keep it down.".

Guy on the phone was much quieter after that.  The family at the table next to them visibly relaxed and the gentleman came back to his table.  We made eye contact and I simply said, "Thank you" because he really did need to know that other people in the restaurant appreciated his actions.

The moral of the story...don't treat a restaurant like your business office...and don't mess with gentlemen who aren't afraid to confront rude behavior.

Just a quiet night at dinner with Yo Momma and G.G.  Chivalry isn't dead.

Because I know you are anxious for an update...

Hop-a-long is still with us.  Tonight, upon arriving home, I opened up the house to air it out (84 degrees upstairs...yikes!).  Within seconds of walking away from the door I heard the sound, the "hop-hop-hop" of this injured blue jay that has adopted our house.  The other night I heard the sound, the unmistakable sound of an animal in distress.  It was such a high pitch screech that I was sure Hop-a-long had met his demise.  The next afternoon, I spied him again, though, hopping underneath the trees.

A couple of mornings ago I heard an awful racket outside my window (at a time when I should have been asleep).  I peeked through the blinds to see Hop-a-long being picked on by two other blue jays.  Of course, I couldn't let that happen...just one little tap on the window and the bully blue jays scattered...and so did Hop-a-long.

Every time I leave or when I come home, I'm checking to see if Hop-a-long is still around.  That's a bad sign.  I'm getting attached to an injured blue jay.  Sigh.

Commercials

There are a few commercials out there right now that cause me to yell at the TV.  Gain and their "gooder" and Jello with the parents who terrorize their children come to mind immediately.  Incorrect English and awful parents, quite the combo.  I know, I know, I could just turn off the TV.  I don't.  Stop judging me.

There is one commercial that is old but still makes me giggle every time.  At staff meeting last week we had a discussion about Cadbury eggs and I stated that I loved the commercial where the animals are "trying out" to be the spokesperson.  No one on staff had seen the commercial, so I found it (thank you YouTube!) and emailed it out.  So far Pastor E. likes the lion or maybe the cat.   Children's Director A. shares my affection for the cat and Choir Director J. has yet to respond.

Here's the commercial...what say you?  And while you are at it, how do you feel about said Cadbury eggs?  Fabulous Office Admin and I say a hearty "Yes!" (which resulted in a fantastic surprise on our inbox's the next day).

Not the hairstyle I desire

For the past week I've been getting up extra early and taking my middle-school age cousins to school. Their Mom had to go out of town for family stuff and their Dad leaves for work early. G.G. picks them up from school, but I got the morning shift. Which is fine. I can change my routine and help out. I'm not complaining.

I've done surprisingly well with the change. I am not a morning person, but I've faked it and felt pretty productive the days that I went straight to work after dropping the girls off. That was, until this morning. I think it had to do with waking up at 4:45am to a consistent, irritating, unidentifiable sound outside...or was it inside? Didn't matter, I was awake off and on until 6:25 when the alarm I had forgotten to turn off, sounded. Then I "slept" in 15 minute increments until 7:22 when I pulled myself out of bed. Couldn't put it off any longer. That's when I saw it.

I don't know how it happens, I know that I could never replicate it if I tried. There on the top of my head was this hair. Wild, crazy, just woke up bed hair. My bangs were standing straight up from my head...but not quite straight cuz they did this little wavy thing at the top. I looked like a rooster. No joke. Brushing my hair only made it worse, it then fanned out a little and got bushy. How does this happen??!!

About a minute later the rooster look was replaced with the wet dog look followed by the put together Brittany look. I like that one much better...it also won't scare people in the school drop off zone quite as much. I'm so tired that maybe I won't move much during the night. Hopefully the rooster won't reappear in the morning...but I promised Papa Bear not to crow if it does.

Questions

If there is a noise curfew that lasts until 6:30am, why would planes be scheduled to fly out at 6:15am?

Is it really necessary to advertise the name of your church on the roof of your building, in letters that are so big they can only be read from people inside planes?

How does fog work? How does it decide to be foggy in one place but not another?

When did we stop having respect for other people when it comes to our language? Why is it necessary to drop the f-bomb in conversations over and over and over again? What happened to the well placed swear word that got the point across but didn't cross the line? (realize that I may have just crossed the line with some people who read this blog...sorry!)

How is the oil spill/disaster in the Gulf a natural disaster?

If companies want repeat business, why do they treat their customers so shabbily?

What would happen in the world if we were all required to genuinely smile at people to give ourselves more energy? Would we be a happier group of people?

For the curious one's

This is the outfit:
The sleeves are sheer and the skirt is prettier in person and hits about ankle length.

These are the shoes
Which I've worn a total of three times (Cousin Lisa's wedding, Lil Bro and New Sis's wedding and when I scuffed them up so I wouldn't fall on my face!)

The best part of the whole thing...the whole outfit cost less than $60 (shoes don't count since I had them already). The jacket that Yo Momma made me buy for the other outfit cost more than that!

Hope it meets with your approval cuz I don't have time to go shopping again! :)

Sob story

Sunday I had the urge to finally wash the months of dirt accumulated off the race car. So I grabbed a rag, a bucket and the hose and got started.

About halfway around the race car with one half of the race car a dingy grey and the other half a beautiful shiny silver, I started around the license plate holder...and proceeded to slice open one of my fingers on my right hand. Oh lordy. Blood, pain, blood. Yuck. I dropped the rag, stood up and started toward the house and then immediately stopped, turned around, grabbed the hose, washed the cut off, jammed my thumb against the cut to stop the bleeding and proceeded to finish washing the rest of the race car with my left hand. A mighty feat, I tell you, seeing as I'm very much right hand dominant...and that cut stung. I am woman, hear me roar.

Monday I got in the race car to head to work. It started up with a rumble, rumble, rumble that was much more pronounced than usual rumbles. The whole car shook like a bowl full of jelly...oh, sorry, mixing up stories. Anyway, it was a major shake and didn't sound great but, hey, I needed to get to work. Monday night about 6pm when I was finally ready to head home, I went out and started the race car it rumbled and died. Tried again. Rumble, die. Pushed my foot on the gas, rumble really loudly and fast! Made it to the top parking lot before it died again, this time locking up the power steering. I did what any strong woman would do...called Papa Bear. :) He came to my rescue but the poor race car sat in the church parking lot overnight.

Tuesday I called the mechanic. They were closed. Something about a bike tour being in SC and the whole downtown being a mess and something. Sure. Likely story. Appointment for Wednesday. Race car, again, has an overnight stay at church.

Today (Wednesday) I called for a tow truck. Which was actually quite funny. As I talked to the insurance people about getting a tow truck who told me that it could take up to 45 minutes for said truck to arrive, I was looking at the tow truck shop across the street from the church. Literally the 5 minute warning call came as I watched the truck pull out of their parking lot and into the church parking lot. The tow truck driving was hooking up the race car before I even made it out the door. It's a sad, sad thing, Internet, to watch one's lovely car be driven down the road by a tow truck. I'm much too attached I think.

The mechanic is keeping the race car overnight. Something about something about the starter and...okay, I didn't listen very closely. All I heard was "250 dollars". But he did say "it's a very nice car", I agree, and he also humored me and checked the fuel filter (which needed to be replaced and he did it, thank you). And tonight the race car is snugly tucked inside the mechanics shop...which is a huge step up from the church parking lot. Tomorrow I get to pay for that overnight stay. Sigh.

And that, my dear Internet friends, is my sob story of the day***. The End.

***Which isn't that awful, really, and in light of things that are happening in some of my friends lives, is kind of petty. Just had to qualify. I'm whining but it's more of a silly whine not a serious one. Life could be much worse and I fully realize it!

What I should be doing...

What I should be doing right now is reading the book that I will expected to have some fabulous insight on tomorrow night for my second to last class meeting...what I am doing is blogging.

What I should be doing is putting my clothes in the dryer so they don't get all mildewy smelling (yes that is a technical term). What I am doing is blogging.

What I should be doing is printing out the two papers that I have written that are expected to be turned in tomorrow night. What I am doing is blogging.

What I should be doing is reading the other book that I get to do an oral presentation on Saturday. What I am doing is blogging.

What I should be doing is getting some sleep because I'm really kind of tired. What I am doing is blogging.

What I should be doing is packing my bag for my overnight stay in the big city for my last class tomorrow. What I am doing is blogging.

Blogging about nothing important, but blogging none the less. Why? Because I wear my procrastination queen crown proudly, people!

Newsflash

It's only Tuesday...my head thinks it's Wednesday already.

Back to work!