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Cleaning, Tricking Myself, Keena Shin-digging, Googling, and Making Weekend Plans |
2004-07-09� �� 3:03 p.m. |
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Last night I found myself with nothing going on at only 8:20. I already worked out. I ate dinner. I took a shower. It was 40 minutes before my cell phone�s free night minutes started.
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 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! �
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Moving Day - 2008-02-15
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