A list

No. Not the "A" list. Just a list of things I want to take care of this week. I feel like if I post them here, I am really responsible for them because people (Hi Mom and Dad!) read this and check up on me with loving phonecalls and emails.

1. Clean. Clean anything that looks icky.
a) mop kitchen floor, it is beyond icky, headed towards nasty. Oops.
2. Clean the vacuum (YES I do this, you would too with 5 furry animals in the house.) If the vacuum is covered in staticy fur, it's only going to drop it somewhere else. >gasp<
DONE 3. Wash the front porch area. Since it is under a roof, it does not have the benefit of being rinsed clean during monthly tornado warnings. Don't worry tree huggers, I'll use a plant based cleaner.
DONE 4. Fill flower pots for (clean!) porch railing.
5. Hang new shelving in garage. I'm not Super Woman, it's only 3 feet of Elfa.
DONE and happy! 6. Weigh myself. :D
7. Celebrate anticipated weight loss with several calls to sisters and parents. "Hey guess what? I'm shrinking again!"
8. Fall asleep tonight (insomnia has hit, Andrew, Sweetie and Raven are ALL sound asleep. They went to Dreamland and left me behind. Thank goodness I have something to blog about.
9. Tell stories from work, which leads me to my next idea....



Stories From Work:
Last night, I was rockin' out to corporate chosen music, ringing people up left and right. One woman and her 5 or 6 year old daughter bought a boatload of stuff. It went like this:
Daughter: Mom, can I sign your name on the screen? I know how to spell your name!
Mother: Oh yeah? How do you spell it?
Daughter: It's SO easy! M-O-M!
Mother: Well, that won't work here.
And so the mother signed her name. End of this story.

Later, a mother and son came in. The poor kid was bored out of his skull. When I was showing the mom more stuff, the boy was reacting silently behind his mother's back by putting his hands on his face, dropping his jaw, and bending over in such a way he looked like he was in pain. Maybe he watched his father perform this retail ritual so many times, he thought it was a part of the shopping experience. Like I said, Poor Kid.

And one last thing about work. Do you know what happens when you try to walk through a 36" wide doorway with 37" wide box in your arms? I'll tell ya. You nearly take the special fire alarm thingy off the door and donate some blood right there at the scene. Then, your arm turns from red, to purple, blue, green, and now it's a nice shade of black.

The End
I'm off to search for recycled plastic adirondack chairs. :D