I've got a confession to make ... yes, another one. When I was in school, I really disliked doing homework. I really, really, really disliked doing homework. So much so that I spent way more time trying to find a way not to have to do it than it would have taken me to just do it. I became a master at coming up with creative excuses as to why I didn't do the assigned work ... forget the old faithful, "The dog ate my homework," or "I was sick last night and went to bed really early." Oh, no, I was much more creative than to use such boring excuses as those. No, no ... I said things like, "A guy lost control of his car on our street and drove into our house and crashed into the table that had all my homework on it and then the table caught on fire and burned up everything on it." Or, "My little nephew Charlie got sick and threw up on my homework, and it was too late for me to do it over again." And my all-time favorite, "There's a revival at my church this week, and God told me I should spend the night praying instead of doing homework." Yeah, yeah, I know ... I'm sure that last one earned me a bunch of black marks in God's book as well as the teacher's. You get my point, though ... I really, really, really disliked doing homework.
To say that I am a bit anxious about my upcoming trip to Canada to see my son and his family is without a doubt the most gigantic understatement in the history of the world. And if I were to tell you that the life-saving doctor didn't immediately hone in on my anxiousness at my appointment today, that would be nothing short of a great big old lie. I'm pretty sure she knew before my butt was even in the chair today that I was worked up, stressed out and not a happy camper. In fact, I'm pretty sure my heart was pounding so loudly she could probably hear it ... kind of like the movie Jumanji when the game made the beating noise that everyone could hear. OK ... when I say things like that, it's no wonder everyone thinks I'm cracking up. But once again, I digress ... back to my visit with the life-saving head doctor. It didn't take long today for my Sheldon Cooper-ness to kick in ... there was something different on the table next to the chair I always sit in, a square thing with liquid in it. It's never been on that table before, and though I didn't tell the dear doctor, it freaked me out because it wasn't supposed to be there. On a day when I was over-the-top stressed out, there was something weird on the table next to me ... sheesh. And you want to know what freaks me out even more? Knowing that the good doctor takes note of everything I say and do when I'm at her office, and knowing that she knows it bugged the heck out of me that the weird square thing with the weird liquid in it was on the table. Again, when I say things like that ... it's no wonder she insists that I still come to see her.
We talked about me getting on the plane ... of course we did. And the more we talked about it, the faster and louder my heart pounded. At one point, I almost said, "Can you not hear that? Can you not hear my heart? I swear it's going to beat right out of my chest. How can you not hear it?" But then the whole Jumanji thing reminded me that I'd better not say that out loud ... come on, seriously? I may be crazy, but I'm not ridiculously stupid. Oh, wait a sec, she reads my blog ... guess she knows about me and my heart and Jumanji now, huh? Oh, well ... I'm pretty sure she already knows how my minds works anyway. Geez ... I'm having some major digression issues tonight ... back to what the head doc and I talked about today. We talked about a lot of things ... and nope, I'm not going to share them with you. Suffice it to say that I assured the wonderful life-saving doctor that I am fine. I'm fine. It's all going to be just fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. She knows what fine means ... yep, she sure does, which is why she gave me the homework that she did at the conclusion of our visit.
So, I'm not going to tell you what all of my homework consists of, but I do want share one thing the doctor asked me to do. When she said, "I want you to make a list," I immediately said, "Oh, I like lists. I like crossing things off lists as I do them ... gives me a feeling of accomplishment." And then she told me what she wanted me to put on the list ... ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh. I've tried at least a dozen times since I left the life-saving head doctor's office this afternoon to work on my list, and tonight I'm thinking it may be an impossible task for me to complete. Tonight I'm thinking about how to come up with some creative excuse for not doing my homework. Tonight I'm thinking I'll do what I generally do when I don't want to think or do or be ... I'm thinking I'll go to bed, snuggle in with my two doggies, pull the covers over my head and hope and pray that I can sleep. Told you I really, really, really dislike doing homework. Told you.
Oh, and since I know a ton of you are going to flood me with messages wanting to know ... the list ... the life-saving head doctor told me to make a list of my positive attributes ... reasons why God loves me, reasons why people love me, reasons why I should love myself. And the one thing I've placed on the list? I have good hair. Really, really, really good hair. Yep, when I say things like that ... well ... you know.
Sleep well, friends ... me and my hound dogs are calling it a night.
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