good things!

Today is Sunday! Happy day!

-This morning I witnessed one of the most epic (and I don't use that word lightly) performances by a handbell choir the world has ever known. I fully expected tricks to be executed and bells to be thrown..it didn't happen...but it certainly could have. Joy can be displayed in ALL SORTS of ways!

-Also, I got Chipotle today. Very yum. And I tried something new there! Which reminds me, I need to update my list. I have lots to add and I'm not sure if I'll remember...

-Also, my hair looked good this morning.

-Also, I hit the point today!! I've been looking forward to this since I started running...so since beginning of April..

-Also, it was BEAUTIFUL out today.

-Also, SLP is going to be great. Good people, great conversation. I like belonging to something.

-Also, I just wrote a paper in twenty minutes. And it doesn't suck!

-Also, I'm getting dessert in approximately six minutes.

-Also, I'm going to be in bed before midnight!

I like Sunday.

I spent approximately 45 minutes thinking about hard-boiled eggs tonight. Boiling, peeling, eating...I analyzed eggs for the better part of an hour. And I didn't even notice that was weird until I'd been doing it for awhile...and then I couldn't stop myself. Point being: I want a dang hard-boiled egg.

I actually have to get this sleeping schedule in check. Really. I don't think it's healthy. I don't really think I'm healthy.

Happy May.

5 hour nap > 6 mile run

My affinity for naps often disrupts my plans. Maybe it's my body's way of laughing at me when I make plans, but whatever the reason, it does. Today I had a FULL afternoon of homework on the agenda. Also, I had a really good run planned. But alas, my nap stretched five hours, and as I freak out running in the dark, I my hopes of running were dashed.

I have recently recovered my love for running...very recently. But it's back. I love being outside, and there's something about sweating, really sweating, that makes you feel so good about life.

I ran all the time when I was younger. I loved to run with my mom, and it felt good to race my dad and kick his butt up the last hill to our house. But I plateaued, and as I tend to only enjoy the things at which I excel (which, yes, I realize is a problem for me), my running quickly petered out.

Now with a marathon coming up in October, I have little choice but to once again dive into running. I'm a goal-setter. It's what I do. Little checklists mean, well, little, but a big, long-term goal really does excite me. This marathon is the definition of a big goal. And I didn't realize it until I already signed up. There was no, "I'm going to start running again" or "maybe a 10k would be cool." I jumped straight to marathoning. Hmm. But I think it's good for me. I need to be committed to something, and I think it's made me way more able to love this running thing again than a simple three-mile-a-day jog would do.

But commitment means I need to cease sleeping through an entire afternoon on the day I was supposed to man up and take a long run...we'll see how I do tomorrow..

I'd love to keep my head.

Two naps on the day amounts to my still being awake and working at 2:55. But I wrote me a speech, colored a crown, and it's more or less the weekend! Long live King Louis XVI, and by long, I mean please let me live til the end of the semester!!

I'm out, hellooo best night of the week! It's still Thursday to me:)

How do I plead? That's easy: Guilty.

Guilt trips are huge for me. You can say just six words, and my stomach is in knots for an entire day, no exaggeration. From Dad mentioning every single thing he's ever done for me when he's upset to friends mentioning why something I did rubbed them wrong--it drives me crazy. Not crazy annoyed, crazy shamed. Even when I believe my actions to be entirely legitimate, even when I know in my gut that the other person is completely and totally wrong, I get this overwhelming yearning to be forgiven, to make it right in their eyes. And when I don't get that closure, that's the worst.

When I was five, I watched my older brother put a three-year-old on the roof of a boathouse. He didn't get hurt, and all I did was watch, but to this day, I am unable to look the kid's parents in the eye. I physically cannot say hello to my pastor because I'm pretty sure I was intensely impolite to him the first time we met. One of my best friends from high school is the one person I cannot stand to be around, solely because she always makes me feel so guilty when I'm around her. And I feel guilty that I don't like that.

I feel guilty when I do something wrong, I feel guilty when someone else does something wrong, I feel guilty whenever someone is sad, I feel guilty about not feeling guilty.

There's a time and place for guilt. I mean, there's a reason we have it. And it's important to make things right. But the completely painful and overpowering way I feel guilt, I could live without that.

I found a way to cheat, if I wanted to. I'm posting this at 3:46 pm. And it says I'm posting it at 2:56pm. And for that, I feel guilty.

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Terrific Tuesdays

Tuesday is by far the best day of the week. Three reasons contribute to this truth:

First, Tuesday is math and tai chi day. No overwhelming politics, no pointless mythology. Just the good stuff.

Second, Blender Tuesdays. This new tradition is brilliant. Tuesday nights at 830 consist of shakes, smoothies, random creations, and good times all around.

Finally, and this reason only pertains to today, Tuesday the 27th was tie-dye Tuesday with the little partner. My hands are stained and my heart is happy.

I am tired, I feel so sick I could fall over, and I am completely overwhelmed with work. But Tuesdays are terrific. And I am glad.