Thursday, January 1, 2009

...starts a blog.

Why not? Everyone's doing it. And I'm just self-centered enough to think y'all will want to know what happens after I wake up. I was thinking about how many people would be creating a blog today - it being 1/1/09 - and didn't want to be left out.

Today is New Year's Day. Sunny, chilly and I slept until 9. Alright 10, but I WAS awake until 3 if that makes a difference. I'm excited because it's Thursday and Kev is off work until Monday. Keeping the expectations low, but hopeful to get a bunch of stuff done:

  1. Clean out basement. Just for you, Dad.
  2. Re-org upstairs closet. Bought me some excellent shelves and drawers. Must complete this before Kevin demos closet in master bath renovation.
  3. Set fire to downstairs closet. No hope for organizing that pit. Best to start from scratch with a bit of insurance money. Fingers crossed I don't go to the big house for fraud.
  4. Rent the goddamned carriage house. If it kills me, I'm gettin' someone to sign on the dotted line.
  5. Go to a meeting. So very much missing friends.
  6. Buy replacement library books. Did that already, but I'm the kind of list maker that likes to put something on that I've done just so's I can cross it off right away.
  7. Choose paint for foyer.
  8. Doh! The laundry room.
  9. Damn! The pantry...

OK, list making exercise over.

I think for my blog, I'll close with things for which I am thankful. The hope is that it will set me on my way with a smile - and if anyone reads this, maybe they'll be happy to have made my list. If you do, thanks!

Sarah wakes up and is thankful for:

Good time lovin' easy to please quick with a laugh and a good joke kinda friends. The trip to OBX - to see Scott and Steph who I never realize how much I miss until I see them. Not wanting to have a drink today. The weather gods - spring and winter in one week. Twinkling Christmas lights. Ugg boots. Napping children. Being okay with feeling yucky and doing something about it. And, as always, the love of my life, Kev.

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