|Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves!|
I started my week of virtuous eating and weight loss at lunch today (Mrs. Cynicletary, my luncheon companion, might be raising her eyebrows at this news, as she saw me mainline three fish tacos and pretty much the whole bowl of chips) BECAUSE I really really really wanted a margarita or a glass of wine, and I successfully resisted my wanton urges and instead had Diet Coke with lime.
Of course, I came home and had a glass of wine around dusk-time . . . but I probably would have had that one anyway. So, see? WINNING!
I'm ready to throttle the entire University of California at San Diego, which is dragging its metaphorical heels about paying me the $1,200+ I earned for an editing job I did in October. Ages ago! This makes me very cross. Pay your minions, people!
Mimosa is gone all weekend at a Youth Group retreat, so we get a taste of what life will be like when she goes to college. (So far: Sad. Quieter. Bittersweet.) Li'l Martini says he misses her but he's mostly psyched to (secretly) sleep in her bed. (This is not as pervy as it may sound — her bed is awesome. It used to belong to my great-grandmother, and then it was mine for my entire childhood through young adulthood. It's a lovely bed — full-size with an oak headboard, and about four feet off the ground. Martini sleeps in a twin bed — a perfectly cool twin bed with a funky black iron headboard, but still — and he is looking forward to a night in the Big Bed.)
(When it was time for Mimosa to get a new bed, Mom found out that she could ship the heirloom bedframe from California for $400. Crazytown! We got a new mattress and box springs for $100 from Wal-Mart, which delivered it for free, and voila! The bed of my dreams for just over $500! It was like a miracle.)
I'm surprisingly fatigued (long week!), so I will cut this short. This Daylight Savings pitch-blackness at 6 p.m. is killing me; I just want to hunker down and go to bed early every single night. Which would be okay, I suppose, if I then got up early and plowed the fields — but I do not do that. Not even metaphorically.
I will close with an inspiring thought that Husband just shared with me (he's prepping for his Sunday gig as Worship Associate at our church): "Prayer doesn't change things. Prayer changes people — and people change things."
love and xx's,