One step closer to being famous
This weekend, I came out of retirement to revive my acting career.

Didn't even know I had an acting career, did you.

It started in the first grade when I played Mary, mother of Jesus in the church Christmas pageanty thing. My mom says I picked my nose in front of everyone. I don't remember that. But if I did, it was only because I'm pretty sure with all the dust and dirt of the day, Mary probably really did pick her nose sometimes. And how do we know she didn't pick? I was in character.

Later in my career, I played Aunt Polly in my 4th grade Tom Sawyer play. I was an amazingly convincing old lady.

I was the Ghost of Christmas Past in Jr. High. I was told that my dancing in front of the strobe light while costumed underneath a sheet was like no other strobe light dancing ever before in history. Ever.

I've also played Calamity Jane, bringing great height and depth to the "calamity" of her name.

And, in highschool I portrayed a riveting protrayal of Martha (of Mary and Martha) in the church Easter pageant. They didn't give me any speaking lines, but I didn't need lines to be Martha. I just acted.

Then, I took an early retirement. I went to college, graduated, took lots of random jobs, which brings us to the present where I have now been asked out of my acting retirement to bring the joy of my acting back to the world.

My dear BFF Friend E has been directing James and the Giant Peach at a local church. She called upon me this week to play a very important and pivotal role in the play.

So, after just two rehearsals, followed by two performances, I think it is safe to say that I was probably the most amazing, fabulous, and definitely the prettiest....

Crowd Person #1..... EVER.

It all came back to me as though I had never left the stage. The lights, the laughter, the applause.... the drama, the moment, the character. I don't like to think of it as "only" four lines. I prefer to think of it as the MOST IMPORTANT four lines in the play. And probably in the history of the world. EVER.

Plus I got to move the peach pit scenery around, and make birds fly on a pole.

It was pretty sweet.

Thanks to my BFF for giving me the opportunity to remember my dream of being a world-famous actress. She's by far the best director I have ever worked with in my entire life. EVER.

She should, like, go do that as a profession or something.

C.T.

My newest crusade
Not that I had an "old" crusade. So maybe this should just be called "crusade".

I am seriously unhappy about the gas prices. SERIOUSLY UNHAPPY. The whole thing is ridiculous. El MOL shares my sentiments. It's just going to be a really long, really expensive summer at the pump.

AND THERE IS NO GOOD REASON FOR IT.

Case in point. The average person in a car does not make $48.5 million dollars in a year, and will not retire with another $98.5 million on top of that. But according to this article, someone does earn that much money. Check this quote:

“The former CEO of Exxon-Mobil just received a retirement check for $98.5 million after earning a $48.5 million salary last year," said Rep. Don Manzullo (R-Ill). "At the same time, Americans have to dig deeper and deeper into their pockets to fuel their cars just to get to work. It's outrageous, and our government needs to get some answers from the oil companies.”

So I'm thinking, raising gas prices to $3 or $4 a gallon really isn't bothering this guy on his drive to work everyday, especially considering he is retired and doesn't have to drive to work anymore.

And then I thought, maybe these oil company CEOs just don't realize how much they make in comparison to the average person in a car. And maybe they don't realize how much these rising gas prices hurt us, everyday, just trying to get around our lives.

For instance, according to DallasGasPrices.com, last year at this time, the average gas price was $2.12 a gallon. Even that price is outrageous, but compared to today I'd gladly pay $2.12. At 15 gallons to fill up the Jeep, last April I paid around $32 to fill up.

Today at $3 a gallon, it costs $45 to fill the tank. And they say prices will continue to go up. So, say we reach $3.50 or even $4.00 this summer, I could be paying $60 to fill up the Jeep, which is almost TWICE as much as I paid to fill up last year. And thinking even further back, when I bought the Jeep in 2002, I could fill up for $25 or less.

Now, am I also making TWICE as much money as I made last year? Um, no. Definitely not. Am I having to drive less to make the money I do make at about the same rate?

Um again, no. I'm driving the same, if not more, just to pay the bills. And now I'm having to pay a whole lot more to get there.

Now, some people say the answer to the whole gas price ridiculousness is to stop buying gas from the large oil companies, or stop driving as much, carpool, or get a more fuel-efficient car. All of these are good ideas. But for me, none of them are practical. I carpool when I can. But in reality, none of these things are truly going to bring gas prices down on a large-scale, nationwide scope to ease the suffering of Americans everywhere.

We are at the mercy of the oil people, and we should not have to DRIVE LESS to afford a tank of gas.

So, here is my new crusade. Or just "crusade", if you will.

First, my day job involves mail. Lots of mail. I work in direct mail fundraising, which means I am trained to create mail that encourages money out of people for good causes. I do this everyday.

Next, everyone has seen Shawshank Redemption, right? Remember the part when Andy writes a letter a week to some legislator, asking for funds for a library. He does this for years. And finally, he is rewarded with tons of books and a check, and a request to please stop writing so many letters.

It took a long time, but he got more than what he asked for.

Well, I am borrowing from Andy and I'm about to do the same thing, for as long as it takes. Or until I get bored. Whichever comes first.

Meet Rex W. Tillerson:



He is the current Chairman and Chief Executive Officer of Exxon Mobil Corporation. And he's about to start getting a whole lot of mail from me.

According to the LA Times, Rex got a raise last year of 33%. He now makes $13 million a year, including salary, stock stuff, yada yada. All of it.

Now, I don't make anywhere near $13 million. In my entire lifetime, I will likely never see $1 million, much less $13 million. And my wee raise last year was closer to 33 dollars than 33 percent. So the way I figure it, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me that with every tank of gas that I put in the Jeep at constantly increasing prices, this guy is making more money, while I am having less money.

But, I realize that Rex is not responsible for the entire situation as it is today. I know that writing him a letter a week will not actually change gas prices.

So, what I am asking for is help FOR ME. I'm sorry, but you people are on your own. It's something small and reasonable for a man worth millions, yet something big and helpful to an average car driver like me.

I figure that at $45 a tank, filling up (on average) 5 times a month, I'll be spending an extra $65 per month on gas over the next year, compared to what I would have paid at about this time last year ($2.12 a gallon). Over 12 months that is $780.

Of course, that's betting that gas will not rise above $3 a gallon, and would stay just at $3 a gallon for the next 12 months. If it reaches $3.50, that amount increases to as much as $1,230 more I will be paying for gas over the next year. And should gas hit $4 per gallon, I will be paying as much as $1,680 more over the next 12 months than if gas stayed around $2.12 as it was a year ago.

Yikes.

Including the cost of one stamp per week for the next year (I will throw in the paper and envelopes for free), that comes to right at potentially $1,700 that Rex and people like him at other big oil companies will cost me over the next 12 months for doing nothing other than driving per my usual driving habits. That doesn't even count an occasional roadtrip or any out of the ordinary driving that might happen over the course of a 12 month period.

So, my weekly letter to Rex will be simple. I will recognize that he cannot solve these horrendous gas prices on his own, and that I am not expecting my one letter to cause a revolution, or to cost his company any money. I am sure Rex is doing the best job he can at effectively running his company, at searching for alternative fuel sources, and looking for ways to ease consumer prices at the pump as soon as possible. At $13 million this year, I know he is worth every penny for a job well done.

But, if he could just find enough loose change in his couch cushions, or if he has just a bit of extra cash lying around that he could send to help me out at about $1,700 towards covering an increase in my personal gas expenses over the next year, that would be a big help.

And I would even buy all of my gas from Exxon, just to show him no hard feelings.

Thank you, Andy Dufrane. You are my inspiration.

C.T.

How to move church pews
A tribute to a little blood, a lot of sweat, and a few tears that will forever be known as... The Day Our Church Moved.

We moved our church to a new location over the weekend. I say that to some people and they think that's an odd thing to do. True, most churches don't just pick up and move. And they especially don't move with a U-haul and a lot of volunteers.

But, we did. Yeah, pretty much the whole church was there. And given that's a total of about 20 people or so, it was a pretty amazing thing.

We moved from a second floor space that has been our home for the past 6 years or so, almost since our birth as a community. Now we live in a new space on a first floor.

Thank the Lord for first floor church!

The pews we own have been a thorn in our side since the day we took them into our possession. They are quite a beast to move. They used to be bright orange. At least now they are pretty and redecorated. But, they are still a beast to move.

I didn't have to move them. Lots of boys did. I just took pictures. I found that to be helpful.

It went something like this:

1. Move the pews out in the hall, one by one.


2. Confirm that yes, the pew is in fact, in the hall.


3. Heave the pew into the narrow, twisty stairwell.


4. Proceed with the pew down the narrow, twisty stairwell.


5. Contort around the corner with the pew, and head out the door in to the light of day.


6. Proceed onto the truck with the pew.


7. Deposit pew.


8. Repeat 7 more times.

Thank goodness for strong boys.

The new room will be great. We are working hard this week to finish setting it up. But, I am sad to leave the old place. It was home.

Plus, I don't like change.

I won't say I've spent more time up in the old room than anyone else. I think our band probably wins that category. But, I think I can say that I have spent more time up there than the average person in our church, and at more odd hours than most people. I've spent A LOT of time in that room, working, doing my staffly duties over the past almost 5 years. Lots of memories. And lots of changes experienced in that room.

I first took on my administrative job when I was unemployed. I would go up to the room in the middle of the day and do such glorious tasks as straighten the room, check the mail, and clean candle wax from all over the floor. Scoff if you will, but I have a lot of fondness for our church's candle wax. I found it strangely therapeutic to scrape the wax.

For awhile, someone who later became Friend A to me would join me up there in the middle of the day, just to scrape wax with me. I never did figure out why she asked if she could come help me with that specific task. But, those are good memories and I'm thankful for those moments.

Later, I moved my staffly durties to evenings after I got a real day job. I would work all day, then a few nights a week I would go up to the church and work. This is when I discovered what a frightening place our room was at night, alone, in the dark. Creepy noises. Dark, narrow hallways. No one around for miles to hear me scream....

It was during those evenings that I was glad that I am a ninja.

But overall, my time spent in the room was memorable in good ways. Once I opened the door to find a bird in the room, flying around. I'm pretty sure he was diving at my head. I let our pastor at the time know that the bird was in there when I left, and I left the bird removal to him.

I remember several nights walking into our room and discovering water gushing out of a ceiling leak here or there. Good times.

I set off the alarm in the office more times than I can count. I punched in that code THOUSANDS of times, but every once in awhile my mind would draw a blank. More good times. That is a frightening sound when you are up there all alone at night. Scared the bahjeezus out of me every time...

I freaked out over too many room rearrangements. I always thought the room was just fine, and then someone would get the idea to move everything around, and I would have to spend the next month or two finding a new comfortable place to sit.

I've watched people come and go from the church, as well as from my life. I've seen relationships begin and end. I've seen other relationships start and get married.

I've seen pastors leave, a new pastor come, and the strength of a community of faith withstand it all. I've seen God at work, no matter what's gone on in that room, or how the room has affected me or the people in and out of it.

I've seen God a lot in that room. Through people, through the gatherings, through the community. I've grown a lot in that room. I've experienced great joy, lots of laughter, genuine love. I've also experienced heartache. I've cared greatly for people I've come to know and love as a result of meeting in that room, and I've been cared for greatly by the people I've come to know in and out of the room. I've met some of the greatest people I've ever known as a result of my church that started and grew in that room.

I stood last night in the room for our last service as we took a moment in the room, empty of furniture and candles, just to be there. One last time. I saw faces of people who weren't there at the beginning. I missed faces of people who weren't there last night to experience the end of that room for us.

The room looked empty, but it didn't feel empty. I still saw God.

I wasn't there for the very first service in what is now our old room. But I'm glad I was there for the last one.

Peace and closure, and hope for what is to come. And thankfulness that we won't have to move those pews again for awhile.

And may we especially never forget the most important thing that we left behind...


C.T.

My human worth
Because this is totally and absolutely real...

(Thanks to JLay for this entertaining link at Humansforsale.com)

Apparently I am worth $1,969,280 if I were to put myself up for sale.

Highlights:

I was actually docked $10k for having a size 10 shoe. Apparently it's not desireable for the ladies to have big feet?

I earned ZERO dollars for having, um, non-big boobs.

I thought having zero cavities for being 30 years old would pay big bucks, but that's only worth $5k.

I earned $0 for being in the Marketing profession. Um, thanks. My livelihood is completely worthless....

I earned $0 for being an excessive tv watcher. Whatever.

My excellent sense of humor? Worth only $65,000.

But considering the highest valued female today is worth $2,968,140, I didn't do too bad. The average worth for a female is $1,666,031. So at least I beat that. I'm above average.

If only I watched less tv, I'd be worth more in the marketplace...

C.T.

The gift of time
So I've been given the gift of time again this morning, waiting for the air-conditioner repair guy to come fix my a/c. I waited til 11:30 yesterday morning before they figured out they couldn't fit me in until today.

It's weird. I feel like I never have enough time to get stuff done. You know, the random things that you don't want to take time to do, even though they don't take much time to do. Like, put up laundry. Hang a picture. Clean the kitchen floor. File papers stacked all over my floor.

I didn't expect a broken air-conditioner this week. I mean, really. Who does? So essentially I've been given a gift of time as I wait around at home. I can't run errands. I can't do any office work from home. I'm just stuck here with time on my hands.

I don't know what to do with it. I could put up laundry, clean the floor, empty the dishwasher. Later in the week I will be annoyed that I don't have time to do it, and that it's not already done.

But, I really just don't want to do any of that right now. Yet, I'm going a little stir crazy. Not because I don't LOVE downtime. I do love it. A lot.

I just feel like on a Thursday morning I should not be home in my sweatpants with nothing to do, when I am not even sick. I should be at work. I should not have to be wasting a perfectly good personal day on such trivial things as my broken a/c. I mean, it's not like I could even sleep in late. I had to be up early on the off chance that the a/c guy showed up early this morning.

Ha!

But, fortunately I have found a few entertaining things to do this morning.

1. I watched the episode of Alias that I taped from last night.
2. I made coffee. Not much in this world makes me happier than making coffee and sitting in my chair to drink it.
3. I caught a few minutes of Christian MOL preachers Benny Hinn and Steve Muncie on tv. And kids, this just about made my morning all by itself. I was mesmerized as Muncie looked me right in the eye (through the magic of tv) and told ME to go to my phone RIGHT NOW and call and give $200. No, $2,000. No, he really believed that I needed to call and give $20,000! He promised an immediate blessing if I did so.

So, then I reached for my phone. I mean, this sounded like a great idea! And they were talking directly to me! And shoot, who doesn't need a blessing??

But then I caught myself. I remembered why I am home this morning. I am waiting for the a/c guy. And I remembered that I will have to give him some money (hopefully not $20,000 or even $2,000). And my immediate blessing will be the blessing of cool air.

4. I decided to come blog instead.

A/C guy? Where are you?

C.T.

I woke up this morning and everything was fine
Then I got home around 9:30 tonight and learned that everything is not, in fact, fine.

My house was really hot when I walked in. Turns out that my outside a/c unit just isn't working, but the inside unit has probably been running most of the day, not cooling anything, and running up my electric bill. It was working fine this morning. Sure, it's 108 years old. But why die today?

Once I decide there is nothing I can do about it tonight, I go to my kitchen to look for something for dinner, now that it's 10:00 at night. I see ants crawling all over my counter. They weren't there this morning. Why come into my house today?

After I get rid of as many ants as I can and I spray some ant kller stuff, even though I can't tell where the ants are coming into the house, I keep looking for food. Then I remember I haven't been to the grocery store in two weeks, so I don't really have any food. And I don't want to cook anything anyway because it is really hot in my house. So I settle for carrots, chips, and hot tamales for my dinner.

Then I try to check the website of the a/c guy I will call, but my internet isn't working. Then it works for like two minutes. Then it stops working again. When it gets really hot outside, my internet goes in and out. Great.

I've got the attic fan going, both my front door and my back door open, and every ceiling fan blowing in the house. It's actually not too bad in here. It's supposed to cool down outside tonight. I'm sure I'll be fine.

Of course, I can't sleep with all of the doors open, unless I want boogey men and woodland creatures to come in my house during the night. So, I'll have to shut the doors, which means the attic fan won't work as well without the moving air in and out of the house.

And really, the attic fan sounds like there is a plane taking off inside my house, nonstop. So, I probably won't be able to sleep with it on anyway. Which means after I turn it off, the house will heat up again.

So when I get up tomorrow, I'll still have ants, and a broken a/c, nothing to eat, and it will be the beginning of a very expensive day.

C.T.

PS: As I type this, my attic fan just shut itself off. Is that supposed to happen? Are attic fans supposed to just give up?

It's going to be a long night.

Shopping with Daria
It's not that I don't like dresses. I do. I just never think to buy them. And I'm much more comfortable in jeans and t-shirts. Or cargo pants.

I loves me some cargo pants.

But over the past weekend was an event that was cause for not one dress, but two dresses. This meant I would need to call in reinforcements to dress me. This is a big deal for me.

My sister was our professional family shopper. She inherited that gene from my mom, who is the matriarch of our family shopping. The two of them have helped me find appropriate clothing on a number of occasions. When my mom and I shop these days, we think of my sister. It's not like the mall was her mecca or anything. But shopping without her seems wrong sometimes.

Me? It's not that I dislike shopping. I'm just not good at it. I'm great at bargain hunting. But not so much good at putting together outfits and whatnot. And, I prefer to shop alone. Which doesn't help with the outfits and whatnot because when I only have my own opinion it's hard to talk myself out of bad outfits and into good ones.

Sometimes I just don't know the difference.

I also get stage fright when it comes to shopping with people who can see me shop. I prefer to shop where I know I won't run into people. I think I carry a secret fear that people I love and respect will catch a glimpse of what is in my shopping bag, realize I picked it out all by myself, and they will be mortified at what I have done and promptly ostracize me from their lives because I am bad at shopping and I have chosen an outfit that people should not be seen in even if they are the last clothes on earth.

I don't even like for sales people to talk to me. It makes me nervous. I don't need their help (even though I do). But I want them to go away and pretend I am not there. I'm afraid they will look at whatever I intend to try on and immediately gather all of their salespeople friends together to point and laugh as I think about putting on the one outfit in the store that does not match itself.

Over the years, I've gotten better about shopping. I think my sister left me with a bit of her shopping ability to live on here on earth. But, when it comes to dresses or fanciness of any sort, I'm just no good.

Fortunately, I have lots of friends who are good at shopping and can make up for my shopping shortcomings. I am definitely in no short supply of good shoppers. It's the "letting them help me shop" that's usually the deal breaker. I know where to go for help, I just don't complete the task of letting them help.

A couple of weekends ago, I did finally let myself let some friends help me. Actually, I just whined enough about not having anything to wear to the wedding that eventually a couple of my firneds picked up on my plight. Friends K and JW were kind enough to take me shopping for the sole purpose of outfitting me to attend a wedding and party afterwards. Dresses were tried on, jewelry was chosen, we rewarded ourselves with a fine dinner. It was a good day.

And after all was said and done, I ended up with one fabulous dress that they helped me pick out. And then I was able to piece together another skirt-ish outfit on my own, after the afternoon of their shopping tutelage. I tend to do okay when I am shown what to do. I can learn.

Of course, Friend K said the whole thing was like shopping with Daria.



And strangely, I take no offense to that comparison. Because really, are we sure I can't just wear nicer cargo pants to a casual wedding? I mean, really.

Ok, not really. I know better than that. But still. If I'm going to buy a dress, it had better be a dress everyone likes to see me in for the next 108 weddings or so. Because I am going to wear it to all of them. And you will like it. And then in a few years when the dress is in rags and out of date anyway, we will do this whole painful adventure again.

Fortunately, both of my outfits were a smashing success throughout the wedding extravaganzas, hindered only by the ridiculous sunburn I earned the day before the wedding.

I mean, sometimes I'm just an idiot. I worked really hard all week to have perfect, alabaster-and-freckle shoulders to go with my perfect dress so that my fabulousness at the wedding would do nothing less than blow everyone away. But then I had to go and work in my yard too long in a tank top, and then all of my carefulness was for naught.

I had an obscene, blatant sunburn that could not be hidden by the fabulous dress.

But, sunburn aside, the shopping trip paid off. The outfits were a success. Topped off with shoes from Friend E, I was the picture of Cocktail Fab. People came from miles around just to see me in my dresses.

Ok, I know they came for the wedding and to see the folks who were actually married, but whatever. My story is better.

La-la la la.

C.T.

If you don't go to church, you might already be dead
I came across an article the other day. The title of it intrigued me:

Churchgoers Live Longer

The article begins with this:
"There are many things you can do to increase your life expectancy: exercise, eat well, take your medication and ... go to church.

A new study finds people who attend religious services weekly live longer. Specifically, the research looked at how many years are added to life expectancy based on:

Regular physical exercise: 3.0-to-5.1 years
Proven therapeutic regimens: 2.1-to-3.7 years
Regular religious attendance: 1.8-to-3.1 years"

Hmmm. See, according to this article you can go to church and sit for an hour or so, and you will live almost as much longer as working out regularly.

Not bad.... sitting versus tiring exercise....

The article then goes on to examine the cost-effective comparison between regular exercise, therapeutic regimens, or church attendance.

". . . examining typical gym membership fees, therapy costs from health insurance companies and census data on average household contributions to religious institutions. The estimated cost of each year of additional life apparently gained by each method:

Regular physical exercise: $4,000
Proven therapeutic regimens: $10,000
Regular religious attendance: $7,000"

So, while not as cheap as joining a gym, if you give regularly to your church it will be more cost-effective to add years to your life than going to therapy for the same goal.

Therefore, what can I conclude from this genius article?

If you are not giving at least $7,000 a year to your favorite church and attending regularly, you will not live as long as those who do.

You can't argue with science, people. Now, get to church and give them some money. It's good for your health.

C.T.

Two funny things that may only be funny to me

1. Dirt.
I think it's really funny that we buy dirt. I bought flowers this weekend to plant in my yard. Before I left the store with the flowers, I had to remember to buy dirt to plant the flowers.

I mean, think about it. The whole world is made entirely of dirt. I own a house that sits on lots and lots of dirt. But if you're going to plant something, you can't just use your own dirt, or any dirt that happens to be lying around the earth. I can't just walk to the back of my yard, dig up a pile of dirt, and go plant stuff with it.

No, you have to buy fancy fertilzer enhanced "potting soil". It has to be specially concocted dirt that helps your plants grow and not die. It has to come in a colorful bag that has pictures of flowers and dirt ON the bag. Some of the bags are even those handy self-zipping bags, so that when you are done with your dirt and you need to store it, you can seal it up to keep it safe and dry.

Dude, it's just dirt. I hosed a pile of dirt off of my car just the other day. Is that worth anything? Could I have reused it?

Whatever. At the end of the day, I just paid $8 for dirt in a bag.

2. My post from yesterday was linked on a West Wing blog today, all due to a tiny comment in the post about how I cried for Leo last night.

It was a very tiny comment. Near the end of a not-entirely-short post that had nothing at all to do with The West Wing.

Funnily enough, all of the people who stopped by to read that post looking for some brilliant West Wing observation from me had to read through every single detail of my weekend before they got to my few words about Leo.

Not at all what they were looking for, and they now know more about what I did this weekend than I think any of us are comfortable with.

But, these things make me laugh.

C.T.

Where did my weekend go?
I intentionally did not make any plans this weekend because I wanted to take a break from the mad-busy schedule I've been keeping for the past few months. And I wanted to get some get-my-house-ready-for-spring-and-summer stuff done. It got hot all of sudden here in Texas, and I still had the heater set to "on" (it hasn't heated anything for at least a week) and my electric blanket still on the bed.

I wanted to fit some relaxing into my weekend, too.

But, here's how my weekend went.

Friday:
Went by Home Depot to buy yard supplies, including flowers for the yard. I didn't plant anything last year. This year, I'm back to gardening. Because it's cool. And, awesome.

Went by the bike shop to see if I needed anything at their big sale. Bought a few sale clothing items. It's time to get back on my bike, which means I need to update my bike wardrobe.

Stopped by Blockbuster, just to see if I needed anything. I didn't, but I rented two movies anyway. I later found out both of them are terrible movies.

Made it home, planted flowers and pulled weeds until it got dark. Did two loads of laundry. Watched Bad Movie #1. Went to sleep sometime after midnight.

Um, and to think I passed on an evening out with friends to 1) save money, and b) rest. Yeah... I did the opposite of both of those.

Saturday:
Only slept until about 8:00. Had my coffee in my chair, while doing another load of laundry.

Cleaned the bathroom. Showered. Went to get a haircut. Called my parents. Stopped by the mall, frantically trying to find something to wear to a wedding in a few weeks because I've suddenly realized I have absolutely nothing to wear. At all. Zero. Zilch.

But, not being in a shopping mood, the whole mall stop was pointless. Completely pointless. I am going to have to wear jeans to this wedding, or not go, because I just don't understand how to pick out and wear clothes that aren't jeans. I am totally bad at clothes.

Made it back home. Then I took my bike to the bike shop to leave it for a tune-up, so I can start riding again. Stopped at the milk store to buy milk. Came home and went back out in the yard to work on my irrigation system (and by this I mean I buried a soaker hose into my flower bed). I then watered everything I planted the day before. Pulled more weeds until dark.

Then I watched Bad Movie #2 and went to bed again sometime after midnight.

Huh. Not so much taking it easy during my RELAXING weekend.

Sunday:
Woke up at 9:00 (spring-forward time), which was really 8:00am according to my body clock. Started the fourth and final load of laundry. Had coffee in my chair and read the paper. Watered my yard.

Then I went to Target, which was not a cheap adventure for me. Why must everything be on sale when I am trying not to spend money this weekend???

Came home. Back out in the yard. Worked on my sprinklers. Washed the side of my house where there was some gooey residue from some stuff I taped there last summer. Made a note to myself NOT to tape stuff to the house this year....

Got the patio furniture out of the shed. Cleaned the patio furniture. Watered more of my yard.

Killed a wasp by spraying a whole can of wasp spray at it and anything in a 10 foot circle around it.

Came inside. Cleaned the air-conditioner so I could turn it on and make my house not 108 degrees. Cleaned all the dust off of the ceiling fans so I could get them going, too.

Showered. Church. Home. Ironed 108 pieces of clothes. Cried when Leo died on The West Wing, even though I knew it was coming.

And now it's time for bed again. Almost midnight.

Things I did NOT get done this weekend:
Putting away clean laundry
Vacuuming
Cleaning the other bathroom
Mowing
Reading
Saving money
RELAXING

I'm supposed to be working on balance. As much as I hate to admit it, I easily fall into the rut of ALL or NOTHING. I'm either sitting on the couch doing nothing for hours on end, or I'm at the other extreme where I can't stop finding things to do to keep from resting.

For some reason, I get it in my head that I have to "do" and get things "done". Not because it's expected of me. I just don't know what to do if things need to be done and I don't get them finished.

I don't even need a to-do list. I just go from one thing to the next. If I had a list, it would never get shorter. I add things as I go.

Sure, I got a lot done this weekend. I have cute flowers planted. I'm happy with all of that. I LOVE being in my yard and gardening. It is therapeutic for me.

But I. Am. Tired.

Maybe I'll relax tomorrow night. After I work all day, then water the yard, and put away the laundry, and vacuum, and clean that other bathroom...

C.T.