Speaking Of . . .

I'm out of sorts with all sorts things on my mind . . .

I just sent my son upstairs for the rest of his life, or at least until supper, whichever comes first.  Judging by my current mood, it's a toss up which will occur first.  I tend to lose my appetite when I'm angry, which makes me wonder why I'm not down to 80 lbs by now.

Speaking of bodies . . .

From the "I Guess It Was Formica I Knocked On" file, I now am nursing a pinched nerve.  As soon as I published the last post (on getting on with my life and leaving the body stuff to my body), I started to feel the beginnings of a pinched nerve.  After a year of not feeling up to par, I have become a rather impatient patient.

Speaking of patience . . .

My house is a mess.  Why is it that when I am feeling well enough to clean it, the mess doesn't bother me, but the moment I am not up to cleaning it, it is my fervent wish to do so?

Speaking of laziness . . .

I have the chance to enroll my son, the one upstairs for the rest of his life, in a little 2-hour lesson in harvesting sap from maple trees (to make into syrup) this Sunday.  I have considered enrolling him, but am not sure he won't be mugging our two maples trees from now on.  So I am leaning against it, yet feeling like a lazy mother for doing so.

Speaking more about laziness . . . 

Remember the mudroom project?  Me neither . . . except when I try to find something or pass through the family room (which now holds all the things evacuated from said mudroom), or do laundry.

And . . .

Do you think McDonald's Filet-O-Fish really qualify as a legitimate Lenten Friday meal?  I don't.  The other equal in my household does.  I can only hold out so long.  This is going on my List (the List St. Peter checks at the pearly gates), I know it, and suspect it is my husband's plan for getting away from me sometime before the here'after.  

Speaking of real men . . .

Why haven't I ever seen a Robert Mitchum movie until now?  And why aren't there more men like that in Hollywood anymore?

Speaking of movie mysteries . . .

 

Why is Leonardo DiCaprio slated to play Frank Sinatra in the long-awaited Scorsese film when it is quite obvious to me that Jude Law would make a much better "Ole Blue Eyes?"  I guess this would go in the "If You Want Something Done Right" file.

Well, my husband has arrived home with a McDonald's bag the size of a shopping bag.  Guess it's time to call my son down . . .