I hate getting up early, I really do. In part, that is why I’ve been so…eh for the past few weeks. (It’s more than not being an early bird though that has caused me to be a bit down lately. It’s more because I’ve been adjusting to being back in an 8-5 office job which, I’m realizing, is just NOT what I want to do for the rest of my life. In a way this fatigue and down feeling is a good thing because it makes me that much more motivated to push toward my career goal of physical therapy. I just need to find the time to take 5 undergraduate science courses and the GRE before I can apply to grad school.)

Anyway, it’s been really tough getting up at 6:20 a.m. in order to be at work at 8:00a.m. I typically am still dreaming when the alarm blasts its obnoxious rock n’ roll radio station noise at me and I get up and push the snooze button once before forcing myself up and into a hot shower. Why then, why, if I am so NOT a morning person, did I get up this morning (on a SATURDAY) at 6:30a.m. and go on a run!? I’ll tell you. It’s her fault.

Roly Poly

Comma Cat

Now I know she looks all sweet and innocent, but don’t fall for it. She’s naughty. She came bounding into the bedroom at exactly 6:19 this morning and leapt up onto my chest to wake me up. (Apparently she has an internal alarm clock and is used to me getting up at 6:20 every weekday morning. Saturday is no exception, I guess. Maybe she got me up a minute early this morning because she hasn’t liked my hair lately and thinks I need to spend more time on it, I don’t know.) I was fully awake after this (and coincidentally not dreaming this time – ug! why can’t this happen on the weekdays!?) and got myself out of bed, deciding to go on a run since it was only 6:30 and likely cool outside. So, I ran (not very long – probably a mile and a half, but hey! at least I did it!) and then came back and did stretching and situps.

Then guess what I did? More yardwork. That’s right, I cut that bush some MORE! But only because it’s growing back from the last time, so I know that I can do it and that it will fill itself in. I raked the entire front of the house, pulling out many things. What things? you ask. I’ll tell you. I pulled out weeds, annoying ivy vines, dead leaves and trash. Lots of trash. Whoever lived in this house before us didn’t care about it at all. I threw away a beer can, an old rope, miscellaneous bricks, an old fire pit in the back yard, a leaky gas container (with gas in it), a bone, and an old rotten Welcome! sign. It was quite a workout, let me tell you. I did all of this while Huz was still peacefully sleeping in on a Saturday morning. Must be nice.

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I know that my petty little problems, if you can even call them that, pale in comparison to what’s going on to people to the south of me. I watched CNN the other night and was simply horrified at what I was seeing. Once again, it’s the poor minorities that suffer the most and our country, as great as it’s supposed to be, is doing a pathetic job of helping them. If we had the U.S. military in the U.S., instead of fighting in Iraq, New Orleans residents would have received help that much sooner. My thoughts and prayers are with those stranded and hungry right now. I’ll be donating to a food drive that my workplace is having – it’s not much, but it’s what I can do to help.

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