Oh thank goodness.

Mike called me this morning early to talk. We had been discussing taking on a new contract, but with a difficult client, the last few days. This morning's conversation was a continuation of that discussion. I'm willing to do the work, but I was worried about the stress level of dealing with the client.

Mike slept on it last night, and agreed. We didn't need to add to our stress level. We don't need this client. The contract will not lead to other exciting opportunities (or even un-exciting ones), based on the client's personality.

After I hung up the phone, I must have had a big smile on my face. Kris saw me and started singing, "Ding dong! The witch is dead! Which ol' witch? The wicked witch! Ding, dong, the wicked witch is dead!"

Of course, that song is now stuck in my head.

As I drove up to my house today around lunch, I noticed an older woman stooped near the lemon tree in my front yard. It's a short lemon tree that produces good lemons: if they ripen on the tree, the lemons are fairly sweet, and make great lemonade.

As I turned into my driveway, she stood up quickly, two or three lemons clutched to her chest in a clearly guilty pose.

I chuckled, to myself, thinking, "Yeah, lady, that's my lemon tree you're stealing from," and sat in the car for 20 seconds or so after I parked the car, giving her plenty of time to get away.

Need to check: did she actually take the lemons, or did she waste them by leaving them on the ground near the tree.

I wonder how the avocado tree in the front yard is going to go over when it starts producing. And does anyone steal from the tree two doors down? It has lots of lemons in it, too.

Today after work, Mike stopped by the office with Maeryn and Liza. We were going to talk about dealing with She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named (though not naming her gives her more power, so fine, Sandie) over dinner. When Mike arrived, he realized there were no diapers in the baby-bag with which to change Maeryn, and decided to head to Target to pick some up.

Figuring it would be a short jaunt, and dinner would quickly follow, I agreed to go, and off the four of us went.

After about an hour with Liza and Maeryn in tow, wandering upstairs and downstairs, from tolietries to toys, girl's clothes to art work, outdoor equipment to shoes, we decided to finally go get food. Liza and I were both hungry, with Miss Cranky-Pants and her little friend, too, paying a short visit.

Into the elevator we all tromped, with Liza excited to push the down button. "Press the one, Liza," Mike instructed, then asked her, "How high can you count?"

Liza looked up at us.

"How high can you count?" he prompted again.

She didn't say anything.

I tried. "How high can you count? I can count to, uh, one billion!"

In her dryest, so-very-close-to-adult-sarcastic voice, Liza responded, "Oh, Kitt. I am sooooo amazed."

The elevator doors opened, and she turned to skip out of the elevator. Mike burst out laughing, "Ha! You've just been dissed by a three year old!"

During my senior year in college, I dated John Schmidt. An aunt of mine recently handed me a picture of John and me from some Thanksgiving at another aunt's house. Cracked me up. I'll need to scan it in and post it. I have my big 80's hairstyle.

Sometime during that said senior year, I began studying for the GRE. I knew my math skills were fine so I didn't study that section. And I didn't even realize there was an analytic section of the GRE, so didn't bother studying for that part either. No, I spent most of my studying time memorizing vocabulary words.

After a while, I asked John to help me with my studying. Basically, from the study book, I asked him to quiz me on the words. He started at the top and asked me for definitions of words on the list.

Twenty minutes into this quizzing, I became incredibly frustrated. I had already spent weeks studying these words, and I was getting maybe 10% of them right. What the hell had I been doing? I was going to completely fail this GRE in a few weeks, because I didn't know anything! Whaa!

After seeing my frustration, John explained to me he had been picking out the hard words and ignoring all the easy ones he figured I knew. So, rather than knowing 10% of the words, I actually knew more like 70% of the words. I'm pretty sure I punched him at that point and told him to give me something I could do.

Yesterday was very much like that at the trainers. I was working on upperbody exercises, and she kept putting the weights so heavy I could do maybe 2 or three reps. I'd make it through these initial reps, then be able to do nothing. I'd struggle and strain and exert, and not budge the weights one bit. After the third set of one of these, I dropped the bar, adjusted the weights down and just barely finished the set with the lighter weights.

I kept thinking to myself, "Geez, woman, give me something I can do."

If only barely.

Bah. Been having a very difficult time with the UPA. A lot of negative energy being thrown my way, and it's getting more and more difficult to deflect it or manage to keep my head up.

Among this swirl, Joshua sent me a message:

I know that it can be a pain but my SCs are loving the visibility of the new
system.  It should help them get all of their stuff done.  Basically sweetness
and great job again.  The people are excited.

So, even though the ED of the UPA is unable to appreciate the work I do, the people who matter, the members and the vast army of ultimate volunteers that make up the organization, those who truly love this sport, they appreciate what I've done.

And Joshua made me cry.