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On this last, dismal and drizzly day of February, I attempted to continue to edit the Microsoft notes.

Alas, it was not to be for a long time.  First, I slept poorly.  Didn’t get up early to work out.  Couldn’t get Ruby to go to the store with me before school, an errand I couldn’t put off another day.  Dropped her off at school, rushed to the bank where I took out $400 instead of $40.  Got a little happy with the 0s.  I punched the Cancel button frantically, to no avail.  Yikes!  The machine spit out a wad of 20-dollar bills.  Made the rounds at the grocery store, then somehow awkwardly used self-checkout, thinking it would be faster.  And it would have been, except the bleepity plastic bags kept sticking together and the machine jammed giving me my change.  Quickly loaded my car in the downpour, then deposited the remaining $360 back to the checking account.

Note to self:  No accounting activities or withdrawing money when barely awake.  Driving’s okay, though.

Came home to ingest another cup of coffee to prop myself up.  Considered cleaning the bathroom and put it off for at least a few more hours.  Somehow, in Ruby’s latest foray into outdoor forts, she managed to bring in a lot of said outdoors.  The tub looks like low tide, a ring of dirt rimming the edges of the white porcelain.  All that’s missing are the broken shells. Yuck.

I got cleaned up for a shelter meeting with the city.  I got there a little early, before 10:30, when the meeting was supposed to start.  Others gathered, and we waited an extra half hour for the main participants to show up.  Seriously?!  Yes, it’s raining.  It’s raining all the time here.  This is no storm.  I left at noon with an abashed smile and quiet apologies (a self-imposed deadline) and finally, finally got back to my notes.

In the past, I would have been really frustrated by now, vexed and fuming at how little time I’ve been able to dedicate to the enormous task of getting the notes ready for my boss to view.  My deadline is Saturday morning.  My PAC host emailed me yesterday and asked for the raw notes.  Gulp.  How raw do you want ’em, buddy?  And what does sldkhfsldkhfISDE mean, anyway?  Your guess is as good as mine.  My supervisor sent him my notes, with the understanding that they are in draft form only.  Kinda felt like I was caught standing outside with just foundation garments on, but oh well.

I know God has even the smallest details of my life in His hands.  At the end of the (very long) day, I am finite.  I will do my best and stay on task and trust Him to take care of the rest.

I am 2/3 of the way done with the first edits. Miles to go before I sleep.  Unless I’m sleeping now…

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