I have a problem.  My planner is going to end at the end of this month.  I tend to live by my planner, so you see why this is a problem.  I have a dentist appointment scheduled for sometime in November, but how will I ever remember to go if I can't write it in my planner?  So now I have a little appointment card floating around, and it's sure to get lost before I manage to get a new planner.  My dilemma is that I could just go buy another one, but I would like another one like the one I have now, and I do not know where to get one. 

I wish that I had some way to measure how far I was running.  But I'm so inconsistent about which direction I run, and where I decide to turn around and such, that I think it's impossible.  Ah well, I do think it's getting a little easier, so that's something.

Washing dishes for two hours is not my favorite thing to do, especially from eleven to one in the morning.  But there is one advantage to working the closing shift:  the country music leaves.  It's like magic.  There's this singularly thrilling feeling that one gets when, after listening to country music for five hours, a song by the Cranberries suddenly comes on!  It brings renewed energy, and with it, the determination necessary to finish all the dishes of the day. 

And you think I'm exaggerating.

Yesterday, I was home alone.  Knowing that I had to work that evening, I was preparing to take a nap for a few hours when I realized that I'd left my phone (and thus my alarm clock) out in the car.  I was wearing my bathrobe, but I decided that it wouldn't matter to run outside to the car quickly and grab my phone.  So, I ran out the downstairs door to the car, grabbed my phone, and ran back to the door.  But upon trying to re-enter the house, I realized that the door was locked.  And there I was standing outside in my bathrobe with everyone else miles away somewhere, and my nap time dwindling away before my eyes. 

You see, I realized instantly upon trying to turn the door handle, that Daddy had bought new locks for the doors.  And, the thing about them is, that when they are locked you can go out from the inside of the house, but they remain locked.  He just got them a few days ago, and I'm not used to them yet.  So, I had gone out the door with it being locked, and closed it behind myself. 

So then, I had to do what Richie did upon so many occasions, and break in my window.  To make a long story short, I made it through the window.  I cut two of my fingers in an attempt to remove the screen from the window, and I knocked my plant off the windowsill all over my bedroom floor as I was climbing in.  The moral of the story is:  don't go outside in a bathrobe unless you know you can get back in through a door.  It's not particularly comfortable or easy to climb in a window wearing one.

The Blessed Day of Worship

If you have the time, this is worth listening to and thinking about. 

Also, I love the ocean.  Why must it be so heartbreakingly beautiful?