I find myself singularly uninspired and hugely unmotivated lately. This leads to massive amounts of Leisuretime Guilt. It is difficult to reconcile myself with this New Lifestyle.
But I press on.
Mindful as I am with my Tragic Neglect of this space, I will flood it now with a variety of Thingies for your perusal. Such as:
(-)Yesterday while out on errands, I saw this sign on a church: NEED A MAKEOVER? CALL JESUS! I don't think I'm being deliberately obtuse when I say that I really don't get this exhortation. Yes, I do infer that it means a spiritual makeover, probably, but why "call" Jesus? Do I just holler? Can I punch in 1-800-JESUS on my cellie? Or is there a Latino Clinique representative who rented the sign, maybe? "Oh, Jesus, I don't know. I'm just tired of the same old look. Can we sort of freshen me up a little with a more peachy lip and maybe a moss green eyeliner?"
(-)I am on Day 3 of a Monumentally Huge Headache Of Titanic Proportions. No idea why. So...Rick decides to use the leaf blower for eleventy hours. Clearly, this is Purgatory. Tomorrow, if my headache is gone, I will be reevaluating my life and considering entering a convent to atone for my (obviously) considerable sins, unless it is too late, in which case I'll say hello to a few folks for you.
(-)What has happened to me? Some of the following are true!
1. I voted for a republican in the last local election.
2. I own an iPhone.
3. I have a secret Twitter account.
4. Ditto Facebook.
5. I own leggings and wear them in public.
6. I send text messages.
7. I ordered beer in a restaurant.
Which of these are you willing to believe of me and shatter all of your Nance Ideals? Oh, the HORROR, I know! But I have a good explanation, and you shall have it, for each and every one that is A Fact.
And just so that you can rest easily...
(-)I went on a private tour of the Cleveland Museum of Art this week, with a lovely cocktail party immediately following. My financial planner and sometime boss (for whom I do some freelance writing) invited Rick and me. It made me a little ashamed that I had not been there in so long, but renewed my pride in our wonderful museum and its collections. I immediately resolved to drive in one day soon and spend several hours wandering and enjoying the paintings and furniture. I am not much on sculpture or armor or sarcophagi although there are plenty of those there. I am also anxious to again prove that I can, indeed, view art and not embarrass myself by crying at it, like I did at the Vermeers in Washington, D.C.
I think I told you about that, didn't I? Sigh. (But...his brush hairs were right there and everything!)
This headache...what a bitch. Send me your drugs. STAT.