And I Caught Myself Singing Carols, Too

What a day. Beginning with getting lost on my way to work. The same place I've been going to for 2 weeks shy of 4 years now. No kidding.

I've been taking this other route, not my usual. It is windy and curvy and hilly as hell, but it's also the shortest. Lets face it, it's a cow path, and cows always know the fastest way home...

It's dark when I leave for work. They aint kidding when they say it's always darkest before the dawn. Can you tell I'm building my excuses here?

Somewhere, I'm not sure where, I left the road and ended up turning onto another road. THATS how curvy this road is, that you can not even know you turned onto another road. Until I'm noticing that I've never noticed that cemetary before, or this unusual house, or, in fact, any of these houses...WTF????

In case you've never done that before - it's a weird ass feeling, to not know how you got to where you're at, or even where you're at...

I felt my way out of that situation by assuming a direction on another turn...like I assumed I needed to head in that direction, which is wholly illogical on these roads. Just because you turn east, doesn't mean you'll be headed east for long...

But I landed on a familiar route - my old traditional route to work. And I wasn't very much closer to work. Picture the letter "P". Instead of going straight to work up the "P" and continuing, I ended up turning on the loop instead.

And it went downhill from there. I wasn't able to focus on Foo's call when she wanted to share something she was excited about. There was just a lot going on. Some days are like that. I'm sorry, my Foo.

I'm home now. Enjoying a turkey pita sandwhich and some carrot sticks for supper, and wondering why they put chunky blue cheese dressing in a squeeze bottle with a little hole at the mouth. Kinda works against itself, and the mess took awhile to clean up...

Yesterday I worked outside doing wood. Again. But it was a crisp and SUNNY day, a good day for spending outdoors. I split several stumps which we hadn't gotten to yet. Hauling and rolling them over to the splitter, there rises in me a twisted satisfaction from making 12 little logs from one big stump. I filled and stacked the pieces for my daughters, where their stash was empty. I think they might be set for the rest of the winter. Chuckling I wondered how normal it was to have your mother splitting and stacking wood for you - don't they normally bake brownies and stuff? Are X & Mel going to tell their co-workers that mom didn't bake this year, instead she filled up the wood rack for them?

Peace