What�s a woman to do?

Well, my recent addition to the FLyLady mailing list prompted me to get up, get moving, and get stuff done. I set the microwave timer to go off at 9 p.m., and moving I did!

I scrubbed the toilets. I got laundry done. I threw out stuff like you wouldn�t believe � clothes that don�t fit perfectly, old makeup, and all that crap that I�ll never use again and know would just sit in a box for months, taking up space, until I finally made it to Goodwill for a drop-off. No more! Be gone!

I packaged up a couple boxes to send out to friends for birthdays past. I sealed and addressed letters that I promise to write over the next few days.

Old receipts � GONE!

Plastic ware in my cupboard � GONE!

Leftovers that I know won�t be eaten � GONE!

I made some great progress in 40 minutes. And when the timer went off, I slowed down but continued organizing needed stuff and wiping off counters for another hour.

At ten o�clock I took off my shoes, got into my jammies, and read for another hour.

Let�s hope I can keep this productivity up.

As I mentioned above, I actually worked out last night.

Knowing that I have a hard time just getting on a treadmill and running and running and running, and knowing that I won�t run outside for fear of smokers, I�ve created a little game for myself.

I walked for five minutes to warm up. (Because I�m told that this is what you�re supposed to do.) And then as I neared the five-minute mark, I cranked the machine up to a leisurely 12-minute mile pace.

I usually work out at an absurd 7:00 to 7:30 pace. (It�s not that those who run that fast are absurd... It�s just that it�s absurd for me to think that I�ll be able to do that without actually training for it.) This leaves me scampering for about three minutes before I grab my deflating lung with one hand and my seizing heart with the other.

I then remember how much I disliked that, and I don�t work out for another few weeks.

So yesterday I ran at that relaxed pace for 11 minutes, figuring that was enough for me.

I�m now playing a game with myself. I�m either going to run one half-minute longer each day, or I�m upping the pace by two small notches since I realize that I�ll be Forrest Gumpping it in a couple months if I do the half-minute-adding thing each day.

See, a game. I like games. Games I will continue to play.

How crazy is it that I�m fully aware that I�m tricking myself, yet I�m excited to go along with it anyway?

Earlier this week I finally bought tickets to go to Texas at the end of the month. The nephew Branden is turning one, and the Keenas are having a shin-dig.

When the Keenas have a shin-dig, it usually involves blowing up a grill.

And seeing that this party is hosted by extremely proud grandparents in honor of the first Keena-kid spawning, it�s sure to be absurd.

Absurd, I tell you.

I can�t wait.

A couple recent google hits that cracked me up:

fantastic handjobs

Mary Kay Beauty Consultants who are lesbians

Spanking my secretary

Junk in the trunk

Seriously, y�all. I get googled for �Junk in the trunk� nearly every day. �Spanking my secretary� comes up once every few weeks, as does �pictures of girls in low-rise jeans�.

Googlism is just so interesting. What weird ones do you get?

Plans for this weekend:

FRIDAY:

Tag football with people from the softball team I played with a couple weeks ago. [UPDATE: Rain says NO!]

I�ll likely end up on Bethany9�s porch with her neighbors, hanging out and eating burritos. If not that, I�ll be cleaning my house some more. Either way, I win!

SATURDAY:

If the weather holds up, Benito, his friends, and I are playing paintball. I�ve never been, but I�ve been told to expect bruises. I swear to gawd if Benito shoots me at a short range, I�m going to wrassle him to the ground, pin his arms with my legs, and deliver Stooge-like smacks to his face until he says verbatim, �Jo is the greatest and the prettiest and the best and I will not shoot her ever again.�

(Are you remembering that Benito? Good.)

Other than that, we�re likely to nurse our wounds while sipping Diet Coke and eating Twizzlers. After sufficient healing, I�ll have him on a ladder, hanging pictures and setting up the electronics. (Ohhh, how the feminists love me! Letting the man do the manly work while I do something like bake him a pie for his efforts...)

SUNDAY:

Ozwald and I are hitting up the Madonna concert. Whee!

Hope you all have a great weekend! �