The passing of the years can be both kind and unkind. They soften the blows and fade the pain, but they also make us wonder what we may have forgotten. What I remember is probably more detailed than people would imagine. I don't need to verify it now because I am frequently reminded that what still matters to me doesn't matter to anyone else.

Instead, I have been celebrating the incoming spring. As I am expecting guests soon, I finally feel the urge to spring clean. Hopefully, I remember where I tuck away all the odds and ends I don't want people tripping over or getting stuck in their heels. This will also aid in making enough room for the new furniture that should be arriving.

Shopping for furniture is pretty fun. You get to sit on a billion different display models, critique the color, and sometimes beg for help as you sink into the cushions and get trapped. You can open and close a billion drawers without people thinking it is too odd. If you are me, you take note of which stores put interesting book covers on boring books. Some of the stores even decorate with stuffed animals. If you don't know how dangerous that is when combined with the my youthful exuberance, then you haven't really lived.

Another perk is that you have people wanting to be your friend. The lucky winner gets to watch as you look under table runners, open drawers, sit in chairs, bounce on beds, and otherwise inspect the furniture. Most of the time, they try to remain supportive, but there are times when even the most stalwart looks worried as you play with the fake flower that is trying to bop you in the head. If you like being bopped, of course, you can buy said flower and take it home. Anyway, after all that fun, I am looking forward to acclimating our new acquisitions to my already cluttered home.

In other news, I still have toes. I thought people would be interested to know I didn't lose them in my mess, misfile them, or cause them to disappear by dipping them into a dimensional vortex.

If I ever reach the point where I watch Criminal Minds and don't turn away at least once, I will gladly turn myself over to the mental hospital. It always amazes me what people will do to each other. Some people hurt each other in little ways. Others go all out and take away a chance for a future for someone else and those who love them. I find this show rather depressing, actually, and yet it intrigues me. I actually find myself appreciating episodes where they catch the unsub before anyone actually loses their life.

I have decided to offset this by exploring the world of the Ghost Whisperer. This show also deals with dead people, but usually there is a spiritually uplifting ending. Of course, I am watching episodes from 2005, 2008, and 2010 interspersed with each other, so the ongoing plotline sometimes leaves me at a loss. Not to mention characters who come and go, but that's another story.

As always, I find myself realizing that I can't quite make time for every goal I want to pursue. Deciding what I won't succeed at would help with that, but I realize I may be too critical to make those decisions. The inverse could also be true. I suppose I could ask for input, but I find most people either want to kiss up to me and tell me I can do everything or beat me down so they can feel better about their own accomplishments.

I spent the weekend appreciating my ability to eat and realizing I may not be a real hobbit after all. My tummy is still in recovery from eating meals every three hours (or so it seemed) while my in-laws were in town. I may have been partly responsible as I added chocolate cake, homemade ice cream, a roast, salad, mashed potatoes, gravy, waffles, homemade strawberry syrup, and whipped cream into the equation. Some of these delicious treats await me for lunch and/or dinner depending on when my tummy says I must eat despite my belief that I should never be hungry again.

I also keep coming back to the fact that I haven't really written anything besides this journal and a few songs for over a month. And neither of these is satisfying. *sigh*

Would I be more likely to write if this journal was actually being read? I can only think of one way to find out. What's that? If people let me know they were reading it. Sometimes, we feel motivated to make things interesting when we know we aren't enjoying them alone. I know in the past that I have had interested readers. I think they gave up on checking in while I went through a massive hiatus of interesting days. After all, even the most talented writer can be plagued by writer's block.

In the interests of stimulating my brain, I seem to be doing a few things to excess. I still eat way too much sugar. I sleep longer than I really need to. Sometimes my dreams are just so fascinating. They are almost as exciting as the television shows that I know I watch too much of. I even had a dream about ghosts the other night. It was kind of weird because it was in black and white, so it may have had more influence from the old movies I watching a couple of months ago than the episodes of Ghost Whisperer that I have been watching lately. I think I'll consider it good as long as I don't start having dreams about Criminal Minds. I don't think I'd like that very much...

What I have not been doing enough of also plagues my thoughts. Obviously, thinking is not on that list. I've been trying to make up the years of neglect to my guitar. I am pretty sure I have not been trying hard enough since my fingertips don't hurt, but a little is better than nothing. I also don't spend enough time working on all of the projects that await me. I'll get to it eventually, right? :)

Speaking of new endeavors, check this out this.

Incompetence. I find it annoying when people can't do things correctly. If I am not trained to do your job, I shouldn't feel like I have to tell you how to do it. If you can't handle it, go back to school, get another degree, get a job you can do, and stop wasting people's time.

Illogical. My favorite Star Trek characters of all time are Spock and Data. This should give you a very good clue as to what else might annoy me. When you place an order, you have to make sure that the order makes sense. You don't order a daily delivery of milk that exceeds the amount that you could drink. (Yes, I am using a really old ice box using analogy.) It confuses the driver, particularly if he knows how much you normally drink. He is likely to use logic and deliver the normal amount of milk to save you from wasting the precious cow juice.

Inattention. I continue to be annoyed by people refusing to follow through. I realize small details may not be everyone's favorite thing, but paying attention to them can save lots of time and money. I guess the complaint is that you should listen to people who give you free advice. Many companies pay for efficiency experts...

Immaterial. Some things just don't matter...

My thoughts are tired from running around in my head. They ebb. They flow. They take over the world over and over again. Sometimes I even let them out to play, but people don't listen to me. I am a private person. I am also an impatient person. When I have explained something clearly to two people, having to explain it to a third doesn't make me happy. It may just be worse because they then try to change my way of thinking when I know my thought processes are clear and concise. So what do I do about it? We'll see. Well, I will.

In other, less cryptic, news, I decided to play with the Wii Fit today. It's been forty-three days since my last visit. I am still fat. Thanks, balance board. I also got called by my husband's name. It thought it was being funny, but I am certain I didn't turn into a man.

I think that maybe I do focus too much on the things that annoy me. It seems to be affecting my ability to write. My muse comes and goes. I keep getting great ideas, some of them even continue the story of the moment, but the right words refuse to come out. That could be because I'm too critical. That didn't sound too critical, does it?

I think I would focus more if I didn't have my mind shattering into pieces and running about twenty different directions. People keep telling me that such things are not possible. I just smile at them, file away their commentary, and keep trying to decide what cookies I want to make next while simultaneously pondering one or more of the various television shows that rot my brain.

Of course, I do practice my writing from time to time. A couple of weeks ago, I sent out e-mails to a bunch of people I miss. Only one of them wrote me back. I am pretty sure one of them has an e-mail account that thinks mine is spam, but at least one of them got the e-mail and just didn't have the time to even type back, "Thanks for thinking of me." I know how busy life can get, but I tend to be more likely to remind people I care when I know they are actually getting my missives. I have lots of friends and I feel no shame in admitting that I am more likely to contact the ones who contact me back.

Speaking of my random writing, I haven't got much feedback on my new blog.

How about that for a subject line? I do believe I would eat brussel sprouts, which are the one food I could never convince myself to eat, if they were enrobed in chocolate. I love chocolate that much. This thought struck me rather hard right in the noggin as I was happily devouring what may be the healthiest cookie bars known to man. No, the recipe will not be included in this entry. I've been chastised for not sharing before, but some things are just for me to know.

It is now two months and a week until I get to enjoy my birthday present from the man I love. Better still, I get to enjoy it with him. Of course, he may forget that he already got me the perfect present and buy me something else, but I'll probably forgive him for a small fee of kisses and hugs. Besides I've been informed in the past that I need to remember that some people like to give presents and I shouldn't worry about how expensive I think they are. I might learn someday, right?

In other news, I think that I have decided to only update my other blog on weekdays. Otherwise, I might run out of material. My two readers wouldn't want that, would they? I really don't know. They haven't posted comments and I haven't discovered a feature to monitor whether anyone but me and my hubby are looking at my posts. I guess that's better than not even wanting to look at them myself. I've had posts like that on this journal. They are the ones where I rant and rave about something. You know the ones. Deep down, I don't like being a "real downer". Would you?

A while back, I attended a leadership conference that was broadcast to help those who had leadership positions in the church better understand what was expected of them and those they serve. I remember that one of the talks was about being self-sufficient. As the woman spoke, she mentioned using things up and wearing them out. I looked down at my sandals, which I had recently repaired, and smiled. Today, I mixed that desire to not waste anything with another memory.

Many recall the famous scene from Gone With the Wind where Scarlett O'Hara makes herself a gorgeous gown from old curtains. Carol Burnett replayed this scene in a more amusing way. I have decided to turn some old curtains into a dress of my own. It has been a while since I created something lovely to wear. As I work on it, however, I remember that my desire for beauty can be thwarted by my annoyance with patterns. I am hoping to finish this masterpiece this week, but I may have to clean and organize some more because I can't find my grommet tool.