This was my day on Thursday. I should have never left my bed. My bed tried to tell me that by making me oversleep by 20 minutes--which I never do. Did I listen, no! I rushed my through my shower to get back on track.
My work clothes tried to tell me that when I couldn't find my pants. I looked on my dresser where I thought I laid them out. I tore apart my bed in case I really laid them out on my bed instead of my dresser, not there. I looked under my bed. I don't know why I even bothered, but you know they may have sprouted legs and walked there. I stood there, and wondered how well it would go over at work if I called in "pantsless", and then I decided to check downstairs. There they were on the table, where I thought I put my bag for physical therapy. I must have been tired because while the pants were where the bag was supposed to be the bag was where the pants were supposed to be. Anyway, did I listen to my lost pants? No!
Then I went to work. It was alllll down hill from there, and as you can tell, I wasn't very high on that hill to begin with. I never made it to physical therapy since I was supposed to be there at 4, and I didn't manage to leave work until after 5... More than an hour and a half after I was supposed to leave.
I finally listened when I made it home, though. My son wanted to go out to dinner, but I KNOW what would have happened, and let's just say I would be typing this from my hospital bed after being in, and probably causing a 20 car pile up. Gees, we're lucky the roof didn't fall in.
Good thing you start with a clean slate after a good 8, er....6 hours of sleep, or I may have never made it through the weekend.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Friday, August 22, 2008
Worry Wart
This term pretty much sums me up. I can worry about anything and everything. I worry about things most people don't even notice. I mean really, I will make a to do list, and start over because my handwriting didn't stay consistant or I decided to use dots instead of dashes for bullets. Who cares??!! Besides me, I mean.
That is what makes the following one of my favorite biblical passages. I know when I am worrying too much because these verses will pop into my head without fail.
Matthew 6:25-34
"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? "And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."
That is what makes the following one of my favorite biblical passages. I know when I am worrying too much because these verses will pop into my head without fail.
Matthew 6:25-34
"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? "And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Remote Controls
This post could also be entitled “When I was young I had to walk 5 miles to school, naked, in the snow, uphill, both ways.” Or “We are so spoiled”.
Last week our television remote started acting all wonky. We would be happily watching a show, get the urge to see what else was on, change the volume or fast forward through a commercial, and suddenly the remote would not work. The little red light on the remote would blink, but no blinking was occurring on the DVR unit itself.
Ok, this has happened before. We just need to change the batteries—or not. We changed the batteries, and it worked for a few uses, and then it would stop again. So we started taking the battery out of the remote every other time we touched a button. Annoying, but workable for a while. And then it happened. I was joyfully watching my taped episode of Project Runway when a commercial came on. Of course I hit fast forward, and waited for the episode to restart. Then I hit play. Still fast forwarding. I hit play again. Still no response. Then I decided to press stop. It is still on fast forward. Now I am concerned, and trying to figure out how to do this with my eyes closed, so I won’t know who was auf’d before I see the episode. I get to 10 minutes left in the episode when it finally occurs to me to walk over to the DVR and turn the thing off by hand. Why did it take so long? Because we are spoiled, spoiled, spoiled. Not only do we not have to “suffer” through commercials any more, but we don’t even have to move from our chairs while not “suffering”.
When I was growing up my brother and I were the remote controls. My dad would suddenly decide to see what was on, and my brother or I would be planted next to the television while my dad said “flip it, flip it, flip it.” The time each channel was actually on the tv was about 2 seconds. We would usually go though the “entire” line up of channels several times before settling on one. At least until the next commercial. Fortunately, the entire line up was probably only 20 channels or so. All this manual channel changing may have had something to do with the fact that I didn’t watch much television growing up. (Not really, I just wasn’t all that interested.)
My son just doesn’t know the torture he missed out on. In fact, I think if I tried that with him he would just look at me like I had 2 heads and walk off. I think I should try it some time just to get his reaction. Hmm. Now that I think about it, I wonder what my dad’s true motivation was. He never really watched much television.
By the way, we have a new remote courtesy of Cox. Thanks Cox.
Last week our television remote started acting all wonky. We would be happily watching a show, get the urge to see what else was on, change the volume or fast forward through a commercial, and suddenly the remote would not work. The little red light on the remote would blink, but no blinking was occurring on the DVR unit itself.
Ok, this has happened before. We just need to change the batteries—or not. We changed the batteries, and it worked for a few uses, and then it would stop again. So we started taking the battery out of the remote every other time we touched a button. Annoying, but workable for a while. And then it happened. I was joyfully watching my taped episode of Project Runway when a commercial came on. Of course I hit fast forward, and waited for the episode to restart. Then I hit play. Still fast forwarding. I hit play again. Still no response. Then I decided to press stop. It is still on fast forward. Now I am concerned, and trying to figure out how to do this with my eyes closed, so I won’t know who was auf’d before I see the episode. I get to 10 minutes left in the episode when it finally occurs to me to walk over to the DVR and turn the thing off by hand. Why did it take so long? Because we are spoiled, spoiled, spoiled. Not only do we not have to “suffer” through commercials any more, but we don’t even have to move from our chairs while not “suffering”.
When I was growing up my brother and I were the remote controls. My dad would suddenly decide to see what was on, and my brother or I would be planted next to the television while my dad said “flip it, flip it, flip it.” The time each channel was actually on the tv was about 2 seconds. We would usually go though the “entire” line up of channels several times before settling on one. At least until the next commercial. Fortunately, the entire line up was probably only 20 channels or so. All this manual channel changing may have had something to do with the fact that I didn’t watch much television growing up. (Not really, I just wasn’t all that interested.)
My son just doesn’t know the torture he missed out on. In fact, I think if I tried that with him he would just look at me like I had 2 heads and walk off. I think I should try it some time just to get his reaction. Hmm. Now that I think about it, I wonder what my dad’s true motivation was. He never really watched much television.
By the way, we have a new remote courtesy of Cox. Thanks Cox.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
The Biggest Complainers are the Worst Culprits
Everyone is complaining about prices—gas prices, car prices, grocery prices, and grocery prices and grocery prices…. While gas prices are helping to drive up the grocery prices, an ongoing problem is shoplifters.
It seems the same people who complain the loudest about the prices are the same people who are pushing them up. We pay for our food, and while we are at it we also pay for theirs with the higher prices caused by the fact they think they are better than the rest of us, so we just need to let them take what they want.
Yes, I’m talking to you .. lady with the slim fast hidden in the bag of rice cakes you exchanged, and you…man who just walked out with steaks stuffed down your pants, and you…over there in the corner snacking on the Jelly Bellies. You don’t get to have a snack while you shop. You haven’t paid for that!! If you want a sample, just ask! Then you won’t be stealing. Oh, and let’s not forget the guy getting a bag of chicken wings, eating them and leaving the bones in the bathroom. GROSS!!
These people are the same people who go through the lines, and complain to the cashiers about the prices—as if they can change it. It makes the cashiers uncomfortable, and basically makes for a very awkward moment. Cut them some slack. They can’t do anything about it, and if you are one of these folks, look in the mirror before you complain about prices.
It seems the same people who complain the loudest about the prices are the same people who are pushing them up. We pay for our food, and while we are at it we also pay for theirs with the higher prices caused by the fact they think they are better than the rest of us, so we just need to let them take what they want.
Yes, I’m talking to you .. lady with the slim fast hidden in the bag of rice cakes you exchanged, and you…man who just walked out with steaks stuffed down your pants, and you…over there in the corner snacking on the Jelly Bellies. You don’t get to have a snack while you shop. You haven’t paid for that!! If you want a sample, just ask! Then you won’t be stealing. Oh, and let’s not forget the guy getting a bag of chicken wings, eating them and leaving the bones in the bathroom. GROSS!!
These people are the same people who go through the lines, and complain to the cashiers about the prices—as if they can change it. It makes the cashiers uncomfortable, and basically makes for a very awkward moment. Cut them some slack. They can’t do anything about it, and if you are one of these folks, look in the mirror before you complain about prices.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Introducing Me the Future Olympian
Well, I have decided to jump on the blog bandwagon. A little late, I know, but I needed to make sure this blog thing was actually going to stick around, you know.
Ok, not really. I just tend to mull things over a while before I do anything. See, if I didn't then I wouldn't have a mundane life.
So, a little about us. I am an Air Force wife of 18 years. We have one 15 year old son, a cat and a dog. The son, the cat and the dog rule the roost--not necessarily in that order. Truth be told it should be the cat, the son and then the dog. Ok, no, it should be the cat, the son, my husband and I, the neighbors, the crickets, the spiders,.....and waaay down the list would be the dog. Poor dog.
We tend to be homebodies. We do work and school full time and then we stay home. At least we did. That is all going to change because now we all have new bikes. Ok, M (my pun-infested husband) and B (my 15 turning 28 year old son) have new bikes. Mine is on order, 'cuz I am short, but not short enough for what the bike store had in.
So, back to the bikes. The bikes are the fault of the Olympics. We were politely minding our own business watching the beginning of the women's bike race when I hear "...49 year old...." 49!! This on the heals of the 41 year old swimmer!! Are you kidding me?! I'm 36, and I have one foot in the grave already, just ask me, I'll complain about all my ailments for you. So, I hear about the 49 year old and immediately call upstairs to M. Hey this lady is 49, and in the olympics. If I start now I can be in the olympics. All my high school dreams can still come true...Let's go to the bike store. 2 hours, 1 bike, 1 layaway and $1800 later we are on our way to a fitter us. Oh, and be sure to watch for the 40 year old unknown in the 2012 summer olympics.
Ok, not really. I just tend to mull things over a while before I do anything. See, if I didn't then I wouldn't have a mundane life.
So, a little about us. I am an Air Force wife of 18 years. We have one 15 year old son, a cat and a dog. The son, the cat and the dog rule the roost--not necessarily in that order. Truth be told it should be the cat, the son and then the dog. Ok, no, it should be the cat, the son, my husband and I, the neighbors, the crickets, the spiders,.....and waaay down the list would be the dog. Poor dog.
We tend to be homebodies. We do work and school full time and then we stay home. At least we did. That is all going to change because now we all have new bikes. Ok, M (my pun-infested husband) and B (my 15 turning 28 year old son) have new bikes. Mine is on order, 'cuz I am short, but not short enough for what the bike store had in.
So, back to the bikes. The bikes are the fault of the Olympics. We were politely minding our own business watching the beginning of the women's bike race when I hear "...49 year old...." 49!! This on the heals of the 41 year old swimmer!! Are you kidding me?! I'm 36, and I have one foot in the grave already, just ask me, I'll complain about all my ailments for you. So, I hear about the 49 year old and immediately call upstairs to M. Hey this lady is 49, and in the olympics. If I start now I can be in the olympics. All my high school dreams can still come true...Let's go to the bike store. 2 hours, 1 bike, 1 layaway and $1800 later we are on our way to a fitter us. Oh, and be sure to watch for the 40 year old unknown in the 2012 summer olympics.
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