This time...

I worked a 15-hour day on Tuesday. Okay, confession, three of those hours were spent sitting in class. But that's a whole lot like work (especially because I was still wearing my work clothes), so I'm going to just lump that in with the other 12 hours. I got to work at 7 a.m. and got home at 10 p.m. Yeah... a long day.

Which might explain why I accidentally ran into a store display at the gas station. I had to stop and get gas about 9 p.m. right before I headed back to the office to take care of a few last things, and decided to run inside to grab a Gatorade to hold me over until dinner (yeah... no dinner until 10... I've started eating that late about three times a week... great for the figure I'm sure). Anyway, I was in a total rush, as usual, and so tired that I wasn't being very careful, and just plowed right into a big store display of chips and candy bars. I have a nice big bruise on my hip to prove it. Off came the candy bars, scattering all over the floor, as the other customers--all there to buy their beer and lottery tickets--stopped and stared at me in unison... giving me that judgmental, "Uh huh, I bet she's drunk" look. Awesome.

But I have good news... 36 days until all of my assignments are turned in, my thesis is defended, and I am DONE FOREVER with school. That's just five weeks from tomorrow. Praise Jesus!

The zucchini's evil twin

I have become a huge fan of the sauteed zucchini... I saute it in extra-virgin olive oil that I brought back from my trip to Greece last summer. It may not be the most low-fat way to prepare it, but it tastes amazing, and at least it's not a french fry.

So you can imagine my shock when I took my first bite of zucchini on Saturday... only to find that it was a cucumber! That's right... I had sauteed a cucumber in Greek olive oil. I swear, they look EXACTLY ALIKE!

Even worse... I was hungry, and low on food, so I went ahead and ate it. Kids, don't try that at home.

Weary

Oh how I am so very tired... three nights in a row of not coming home to eat dinner until 10:00. It's crunch time at school, with only 58 days left until my graduation, 43 until I defend my thesis. I have four papers due in the next six weeks, not to mention an intense month at work, and two big trips (just got home from a fabulous mountain adventure in Colorado, and soon will jet off to San Diego to speak at a national conference!). Because of board retreats, leadership trainings, committee/non-profit work and my travels, I'm averaging about three days a week of work, and two days of "other." Since five days worth of work must still be done each week, it means I'm staying most nights until 7:00, bringing home work with me, and sleeping almost never.

But as tired as I may be, I know where I can go to find true rest.

Jeremiah 31:25 - "I will refresh the weary and satisfy the faint."

Galatians 7:9 - "Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up."

Luke 1:49 - "For the Mighty One has done great things for me; and holy is His name."

People like to say SALSA

Every time I mention salsa class, I think about that awesome Seinfeld episode:

GEORGE: "Why don't they have salsa on the table?"

JERRY: "What do you need salsa for?"

GEORGE: "Salsa is now the number one condiment in America."

JERRY: "You know why? Because people like to say "salsa." "Excuse me, do
you have any salsa?" "We need more salsa." "Where is the salsa? No salsa?"

GEORGE: "You know it must be impossible for a Spanish person to order
seltzer and not get salsa. "I wanted seltzer, not salsa!"

JERRY: "Don't you know the difference between seltzer and salsa? You
have the seltezer after the salsa!"

GEORGE: "See, this should be a show. This is the show."

See, how could you not just LOVE Seinfeld?

And I also really do love my salsa class. For 90 minutes, once a week, I get to go clubbing... at 7:00 in the evening, in a smoke-free, alcohol-free environment, where everybody is super nice, nobody gropes you, the men are polite, and the music isn't deafening. It's good stuff.