A week has passed, and what do I have to show for it?
A friend and I signed on for the library’s adult summer reading program. They’re pushing science fiction this summer, but I know myself better than they do, and I know that science fiction will slow me down even more than I’m already slowed. I *am* pleased to report that I have finished one book since signing on last Tuesday. (If I remember correctly, I’m supposed to finish ten books before mid-August. I lack the energy to check the pamphlet because deep down I know that if I’m required to read 12 or 15 books, I’m going to walk the pamphlet over to the recycle bin, call my friend, and change our plan from life-transformation through books to social transformation through a weekly drink on the town.)
What did I read? I read Good Stuff by Jennifer Grant, and I always hesitate to say awful things about books, so I’ll just say this: Despite the book, I still love Cary Grant. Because of the book, I do believe that perhaps *I* could write a book! Bonus: Unlike Jennifer Grant’s book, *MY* book would not contain anything about anyone being “all that plus a bag of chips.” I’m currently halfway through both Some Assembly Required and Let’s Pretend This Never Happened, and I have five more books waiting for me at the library. (Not a smart move. As soon as I stack those five books on my shelf and remind myself that they’re all due back in two weeks, there’s a really good chance that I’ll grab them all and immediately drive them back to the library so someone else can have a chance. Have I mentioned that Jeff and I have also been baking a lot of cookies and that I currently have seven games of Draw Something going on? It’s all so time consuming.)
These are so good. If you can ignore the part about the chocolate, it appears that they’re good FOR you, too!
AND, speaking of good for you, I was the pissiest you’ve ever seen me last Thursday, so I decided to take my anger to the streets! I didn’t have the proper equipment to blow up a car, so I ran around a track instead. (By “ran around a track”, please know that there was more walking than running. Also, lots of huffing (oxygen, not paint fumes—but remind me to tell you about the time when my mom and I were eating at a Popeye’s and some guy came wobbling out of the bathroom with a brown paper bag in his hand and spray paint all over his mouth.)) All of this to say: I’m currently two days into the first week of my third attempt to get through Ease Into 5K. I find that I run really well when my phone shuffles into Pass the Mic, and I tend to twirl and sashay when I’m given Reflecting Light. I’m definitely developing my own “running” style.
This morning while I was “running” (I’ll remove those quotation marks when it’s deserved, and not a minute before), I was joined by a class of 20 high school summer school students. Four of them were walking around the track with coffee. It made me so happy.
Okay, so with the Draw Something and the cookies and the running and the reading, I’ve been busy. (Did I mention that I’m now on Instagram? Funny how my new phone is making me more social and less social at the same time. (I believe my user name is fluidpudding, but I can never really remember who gets to see my real name and who doesn’t. Someday I’ll admit that my last name isn’t really Pudding.))
Yesterday morning I was recruited to work in the church kitchen to prepare for the congregational lunch. Within the first five minutes, one woman told me (snidely!) that I looked lost. Another told me (smart-assedly!) that it looked like I was the one who NEEDED help. I got pissed and walked off the job. Ten minutes later, when those women had left the kitchen and were sitting down in the pews where they belonged, I returned to the kitchen and had a wonderful time sticking spoons into potato salads and “accepting” the delivery of something like 100 chickens who had been killed, dismembered, and fried to “perfection.” (Two of us worked the kitchen yesterday morning. Both of us are vegetarians with vegan tendencies. The chicken delivery man seemed a bit disappointed that he wasn’t greeted with adoration. “All six of these vats are filled with chicken parts? Okay, then. I’ll put them in the oven and try to forgive myself for feeding dead birds to people I actually like. Carry on to your next destination, Chicken Man.” (All of these things were said in my head. I’m very kind to chicken delivery men when I’m in God’s house. I’m kind to chicken delivery men when I’m NOT in God’s house, too. Everyone is doing their best.))