And then there's this, spewed from a friend's mouth and directed at her kids shortly after she paid $3.40something/gallon: "That's IT! We're not going to church on Wednesday nights ANYMORE!"
All right! Way to cut back...
Peter Walsh Would Be Proud ... Today marks Day 3 of My Clean Sweep, inspired by that Simon Cowell look-alike Peter Walsh, who has created all kinds of chaos in my home, thanks to his book. I will not take before and after photos, nor will I describe the filth, dust and debris that I encountered in only one room. Except for this: I went through 127 books, ALL OF WHICH WERE IN THE DEN. The interesting thing about this: Our den has no bookshelves. So that should illustrate what I was up against. I had to take a break after three hours, sit on my front steps and take a Claritin, which I chased with a Propel.
And finally ... Another blogger waxed poetically earlier this week about the downside of losing weight when you're past 30something, as I am. The scale says you're losing, but the body shape says you're just a loser. (I'm paraphrasing here.) Body parts hang and sag, and there's not a darn thing you can do about it.
My comment to her was a hearty -- and virtual -- nod of the head. And then I wrote this: "I hate when I tell someone that I wake up at 4:40 a.m. three days a week to work out with a trainer and ALSO exercise on my own another one or two days each week. And then they look me up and down, wrinkle their brow and start to say, 'You're kidding,' but instead say a kinder (but still puzzled), 'Really?'"
To which I say, "Yes, REALLY. And I could probably kick your *@&."
Go lift something heavy. Or run. Or ride a bike. It's spring, and it's the weekend ...