Note to Self
I have this theory that exercise is like Confession: I never feel like doing either, almost always dragging my feet, but I always feel so much better afterward. I’ve been setting crazy low goals for myself the last week or so, but have been sticking to them and feel like a rock star when I meet them. That is, if a rock star’s legs burn every time they go down stairs to switch the laundry. Next time I whine and/or complain (feel free to drop the /or) about how much I HATE working out, remind me of this post and how good I feel at this moment. Plus, the more I exercise, the more I can justify buying cute workout clothes. Any suggestions, less-lazy friends?
Also, you can let it slip that anyone in their right mind who even thinks about praying to desire to grow in patience will automatically be tested. My patience has been streeeetched to the max this week (thanks to a certain Grace Weber) and somehow it hit me in the last 24 hours that it may be due in part to a little convo I had with God recently. Obviously, if I had any foresight whatsoever, that little chat would have gone much differently. None of her transgressions are that horrible, but when added up, they definitely test me in the moment.
On a related note: anytime I ask Grace what she’s doing and her response includes the phrase, “don’t come and see me!” ALWAYS go and see what she’s doing. There is a 50% chance that she is lying. For example, if I ask her if she is eating her grapes and she replies in the affirmative but requests privacy, she might be actually eating grapes, she may be dropping them on the floor and squishing them under her feet, or she may have found a “crayon” (dry erase marker) that she is using to color on “paper” (hanging organizer that isn’t hanging yet).