heh heh

Sara - I hate to be the one who says it, but maybe you are thinking too much about it. Could you NOT time yourself for a couple of nights and just try to zen swim?

- says the woman who is already trying to break down what to do to get my mile time down before my next 5K.

So, okay, sticking with plan 1.2, which is taking my day off, dealing with my shit, and no one needs to know. (1.1 was crafting another lie about needing the morning off, I was gonna go with waiting on the plumber to fix my water heater).

Incidentally, I was leaving 7-11 today and the cop parked next to me as I was backing out was the dude who pulled me over. Awk-ward! Hullo, witness to my embarassment! (I have to say, he was very nice about it all, staying completely impersonal and not casting any judgment and just sticking to the rulebook).

I used to go fast! My best was 2 miles at a 55/50 pace. I used to ring in an average of 57s. And now I'm over a minute. It's stupid. I'm just slow.

Okay, taxes filed.

Someone reassure me that I'm not a failure because the house isn't completely packed and all of the things on the to-do list aren't done yet? Even though I took a nap today instead of spending that hour packing.

You are completely not a failure, and the nap was probably restorative, right? So all the better for having been taken.

I had to look up fartlek.

So not a failure. Packing and moving is a marathon, not a sprint, taking a nap is perfectly fine.

Most definitely NOT a failure, Dana. You filed your taxes already! That counts as early in my book.

He fell in love mostly, most of all, with Clawdeen from Monster High.

Well who wouldn't?

Barbies must be the dolls one plays with when one plays dating. I notice that dress-up games aren't pretend dating, they are pretend pirates, or hobbits, or elves, or wizards.

I know those orange chairs well, ita.

Much better to nap than what I usually do, which is spend that hour FREAKING OUT about how I'm NOT PACKING.

My entire family has chimed in to say my head was bigger at age 13, but most hysterically my father mas minutely explained that's not how I wore my hair. Of all the people to dwell on that detail...but he's right. I wasn't one for mirrors and I wasn't combing my own hair, but when I think of lying down, he's right about there the plaits were. Am totally amused.

I just watched yet another movie where someone takes the place of another person totally because they look identical. Although we most often are cheering the usurper on (this was Source Code) doesn't that premise say very little for individuality? Never mind how hard it will be to know what my routine is, and passwords are, etc, is the premise that you just get entirely new friends? I think it would be hysterical to see what pieces of my life my doppleganger tried to reconstitute.

ita !

69.73.162.31

69.73.138.32