I feel a little lost today.  My 30 days of Freedom have ended and I don’t know yet if I’ll be lostrejoining the suffering masses plodding through retail again any time soon.  So today, I’m not sure which way to go.  Or more accurately, what to do.

There’s the cleaning I never got to.  I could do some of that.  There’s the website that needs to be updated (desperately!).  I could finally get to that.  I have the 2 other blogging projects I’m busyworking on.  I could work on them.  I have some recipes to type.  I could do that.  I could summarize the plans for the 50th anniversary (in September) and send them out to all the ministry leaders… Fr. Joe mentioned “his party” today at our staff meeting (I have the feeling he wants to take over… but I don’t give up the reins that easy!)  I could read the next installment of The Cat Who series that I picked up last weekend and have barely begun.  (I think this time Qwilleran takes on a culinary beat.)  I could read one of the two new FREE ebooks I downloaded (or the one I’m in the middle of).  I could pour a glass of wine and crash in front of the TV.  I could actually work on the craft stuff I have piled up in my bedroom (which is one of the places that needs cleaning, and that brings us back to “do” at the top of the paragraph.) Maybe I SHOULD go back to the store. 


It’s hard to believe it’s almost the 4th of July.  I remember looking forward to that day so fireworksmuch when I was a kid.  A cookout, swimming, fireworks… it was great.  Now I’m not even sure I’ll notice it’s here.  (At least there will be the Tour de France on TV.)  Of course, when I was a kid, we’d just gotten out of school about 2 weeks before the 4th, so there was that already going for it.  I’ll get my mini barbeque grill out and cook something scrumptious and with any luck it won’t rain.  And there’s always fireworks on TV (that can be enjoyed with a nice adult beverage!) I like to listen to the Beach Boys on holidays like this.  Fun in the sun, surf till your daddy takes the Tbird away… all that jazz.  

Speaking of the Beach Boys, here’s my Beach Boy story:  One year I drove from Phoenix to Lake Havasu City to see the Beach Boys in concert (for the first time ever).  I went alone.  It was a l-o-n-g drive through miles and miles (and miles and miles) of desert and when I got there, the concert was on a Little League field with no shade.  And it was about 118 degrees.  I walked over to the beer booth, (through the dugout sprinklers) got 2 beers for myself, walked back through the dugout sprinklers, drank them down pretty quick (and I’m not really a beer drinker) and listened to the concert in a “buzzed” condition.  I don’t remember much.  AND I didn’t have a camera or anything, so there’s no actual proof I went.  But, there’s my story.  (Pretty sad, huh?)

And tomorrow I’m going to a seminar in Smyrna.  And I have to be up and over at church by 7:30(ish).  I-am-so-excited.  (Actually, my co-worker said, “if you wake up and find you can’t go, let me know”.  Neither of us wants to go.)  Really… more of that lost stuff.  We don’t WANT to go, but we’re both sure if we don’t we’ll miss something we should really know.  And I have tentative plans to meet some friends for dinner tomorrow night.  That should be fun.  I need more fun in my life.  I should be collapsing in bed by 9:00. 

So, lost I am and lost I’ll be.  Bibbedy. Bobbedy. Boo.

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