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Goals and more

sundayIt’s Sunday…I finally made it. I went to work all week completely not well. A few times I lost my voice. Which made my children sing with happiness, but no one who asked me a question quite liked the fact they had to push out an ear to hear me better. Go figure.

So I’m a huge “goal driven” girl. Or possibly just an OCD list writer. Whichever you prefer. I have lists everywhere–napkins, day planner, phone, computer… This year I only purchased one planner..I’m a work in progress. 🙂 On the weekends I post said list on white board next to fridge. At times I include other people’s list. (I like to provide the wandering and lost some goals to aspire to!) Long story short…today has only one goal: Write a Novel. Will do. I’ve given myself the guilty leisure of performing only one task–to write. I’m feeling a bit tingly about it. Well, tingly and a bit crappy. Back to not feeling well.

I’m forced to do a little rough diagnosis. Like rough justice, you know? I’ve assessed the situation, realized I’m getting no better, and so I will begin a round of antibiotics. I hoard medicine like no one’s business. “Didn’t need that whole bottle of vertigo medicine? I’ll take it!” “So it wasn’t gout you had? Give me the meds, I’ll keep ’em in case the situation ever arises with me.” Thankfully doctors tried to overdose a few of my children a couple times, so I have an extra bottle or two on hand. I mean no one takes 4 amoxicillins, 500 mg a day. For Pete’s sake. 1000 mg every 24 hours is more than enough. My problem is that I didn’t take the immunity power like I should. I wavered on the third day, not feeling like I needed it anymore. Note to future self…

Changing topic: This week I’ve done something completely different. Forgive me if I posted already. But instead of listening to my music each morning on my commute, I listened to lectures. Yes, I made my car my university. I learned some amazing things. It’s such a high when you have that ‘aha’ moment about something that could drive your story to amazing places. It was difficult staying in my chair at work and not being able to implement my newfound knowledge into my manuscript. ah-ha-moments

Yes, work. I was knee-deep in tax forms. Drunk on numbers. Dancing in the streets with calculations. It played havoc with my OCD dealing with double and triple checking things. I mean once that form goes to the IRS, then to the client, it’s over. Any changes made would have to go through another set of forms. I will be dancing a glorified jig when it’s all over on Monday. Provided I start my medicine and feel something more than a withered piece of whatever…barely able to breathe…sufficiently blowing off my little red nose. Yeah, I better get to medicating. Have a great day, everyone! 🙂 *sniff, sniff*

sick

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Hair Cut Time!

hairTomorrow I get my hair cut. Am I the only one who takes a different picture with them each time they go? As if I’m going to actually look like it when they’re done, right? Half the time they tell me my hair isn’t the right texture, not the right color, or that I just don’t have the right shape of face for it.

I like to dream, anyway. I was thinking about going bold. Maybe a different color all together. Or length! One summer I was on vacation and someone in my group went to the salon for a hair cut. First of all, who goes for a hair cut while they’re on vacation? Do you know they won’t scalp you? Who are these people in this strange city? Where are their references? Someone you know that went to them and they turned out all right? Mind you, I had no intention of getting one; I was just there to wait while my family member was being serviced. And then I saw the receptionist….Her hair was ultra cool. Short and spikey, cool and modern. I had to have it! A the time my hair was shoulder length, mouse brown, and molded my head like a shaggy dog. “Button up, Buttercup. And give me what she’s having!” I shouted.

An hour later, I exited the salon with a total transformation. Completely different than I walked in. Boy versus girl. My hair was pixie short. Like I’d never-need-a-brush, short. I went back to the hotel and walked to the pool area, where my family was congregated. No one knew me!! It was wild. I loved it. Talk about easy; wash and go, baby! Talk about cool in the summer; no need for pony tails!

I people watch when I’m out, and I see a lot of hip hair styles. Some that I’d like to just walk up to them and ask who did it. As tomorrow morning approaches, I’m getting the itch. Unfortunately, it’s still cold outside, so I can’t go too short. And then I hear some of my friends in my head saying, “Oh, you look so much younger with longer hair.” Yeah, they don’t have to deal with it. My hair is very fine in texture and therefore falls limp at the first gust of a breeze. As though I didn’t spend a half hour that morning curling it and puffing life into it.

Maybe I’ll change the color. I could go for something to make me feel like I’ve done something different. I’ll pull out my camera roll on my phone and just see what I haven’t attempted. 🙂 It’s hair…it will grow back!