Possibly have lost my mind. Not sure. Might not have had it in the first place or lost it awhile back or WAIT! I've been growing it back since, oh, January, 2009? Yeah, that's it.
I don't know what started my 30 in 30 personal challenge. I really don't. I was looking at doing 60 in 60 but the last 3 days are on a not particularly inhabited island in the middle of Lake Placid and the closest studio is in Burlington, VT and that's a long way to make two kids go back and forth for three days.
I know, why not 57 in 57 instead? Because it's a creepy number. It feels unfinished, wrong somehow. Also, I could conceivably do the last 3 by myself. When I stop thinking I can hear most of the dialog in my head. I could also buy the DVD and listen to Mr. Bikram. I could do all of these things and make it count since they're my rules. I digress. I obsess. I get back on task now which is writing about the 45 in 30 which might be nuttier than 60 in 60 given my schedule.
And the biggest rule? This is not allowed to interfere with my life. It can shift things, it can change the way I manage things and the way I choose but it cannot interfere. THAT is the real stretch.
Yesterday I went to Home Depot at lunch and bought six 8x4x1s. The man asked why. I said I'm building a fence. The man looked at me funny and asked, 'from scratch'. I said, yeah, I am. He laughed. I didn't hit him or cry or get particularly upset. I just let him think about it.
I tried to put these things in a shopping cart but that was kind of ridiculous, almost as ridiculous as just carrying all six of them (I was thinking 3 over each shoulder and YES I could have!). I finally located a cart. I started loading. Some guy in an orange shirt loaded for me. Now I was getting just a little bit irritated although I realized I can never find or get an orange shirt to even look me in the eye (I've been known to chase them when desperate) when I really need one and so I guess all I really need is start taking guy stuff off shelves.
So I start driving my cart. This is wicked fun but I have to stop and separate the big sticks into two separate piles because I keep banging my shins on them. Keep in mind please that I am in the obligatory corporate uniform which includes a pair of sling backs. I should have handed the orange man my crackberry and asked him to take a picture but my dignity was already a little bruised.
Anyway, I'm having a blast and I push hard enough that I jump up and ride. The orange shirt is running after me yelling, stop! Lady, stop! OK fine. I stopped. He was all red in the face and breathing heavy. I was nice and calm because I was riding and riding doesn't require any energy that would raise my heart rate. I said, yes? knowing perfectly well why he was panting. He turned my cart around and said, pull, don't push. Well, shit, that's not any fun but OK, I'm likely to ram this thing into a display or worse run somebody over and that's really not good. So I pull. I get really good at maneuvering around things without knocking anything over or loosing my big sticks which are certainly longer than the cart making the whole thing a bit awkward. Also, did you know that the closer you get to the garden center and away from the man stuff the narrower the aisles get? That was kind of fun actually. I had to go into the garden center for more deer fencing. You know, it cost me $20.92 for the lumber sticks.It cost $61.48 for 100 feet of deer proof mesh not nearly as good as the stuff I've nearly used up that I found in the garage but not quite as flimsy as the crap that fences in half the big garden. I think. I am somewhat disturbed.
The good news is I also got more of that silly string for the weed whacker, a big can of WD40 which I've spent, oh, I don't know, 2 years hoping I'd find in the grocery store (what the hell is wrong with these people? that's a staple and ought to be in the cleaning aisle or something like that) but not remembering to pick it up at a hardware store or Home Depot until it jumped right out at me. I picked up a gallon of outdoor paint that assures me I won't need primer and some paint brushes because I kind of have a feeling I'm not going to find any of those in the garage. Now, how is this said? I'm loaded for bear? Ready for bear? I've never quite figured that out but I do know it means ready and raring to go.
Below is the Loki report. If he's even remotely serious I will be building my fence in the garage. If not I'll still be building my fence in the garage. I'll be using the circular saw to cut my skinny sticks moulding pickets. I realize that's overkill but I don't want to use the handsaw because I'm going to be using the handsaw to be cutting down more branches above my head. I will be wearing my safety glasses for both tasks. I got saw dust in my eyes last time I reached overhead to cut a branch and I chose to look up so that I wouldn't accidentally cut off a finger with my handsaw, and yeah, that's something I could do in a heart beat.
Gotta go. I like to be in class early. I have a nice little nap before the lights come up. It's so nice.
Oh, wait. One other thing. When I was loading my sticks into my stupid BMW the man next to me said, I wish my wife would pick stuff up. Now I'm starting to get irritated. I look at him. I say, there's no husband, this is me. He says, good for you! I do not eat his eyeballs.