February 4, 2013

The Best Part About February

You know what I love about February? February means that January is finally over. January is arguably the worst month of my life, every year. But then along comes February and next think you know, it's in the 40's and I start calling it summer. Every year. I mean, come on guys, I know it's not actually summer, but the fact that I can see my hand more than 7 inches away from my face (hyperbole) and have to wear sunglasses has to count for something, right? The other thing about February is that after February comes March and after March comes BASEBALL. Baseballbaseballbaseball. And also April-October come after February, and while they are concurrent with baseball season, they are also concurrent with everything I love about being alive: biking, lunchtime sunshine catnaps, grass, picnics, baseball, swimming outside, Swinging with Hunt, rooftop concerts, cotton candy, and I could go on and on, but I won't because what I really want to talk about is....

How much I love these little timers. (If you're gonna buy one, it's cheaper on Amazon). You guys, I have 4 of them, because it's all about traveling light, right?! Wrong! it's all about having the exact time I'm going to need for my nap already programmed into a timer so I can turn my cell phone off and sleep until the timer wakes me up. Also for cooking. Also for making sure I don't spend too much time on any of my patient notes. Also for tackling big projects like cleaning my room: I can break it into little increments. Also, perhaps most importantly, sometimes it helps me make sure I spend enough time talking to God. Sometimes I set a timer, I do. Somehow I don't think he minds. He's pretty cool about stuff like just being willing to talk to me when I'm willing to talk to him, and lest you panic, I don't have to stop talking when the timer goes off, I just have to keep talking or listening til it does.

So yeah, that's pretty much all I have for now other than that I purchased a pair of Dansko shoes from my Uncle Tony's store, and I'm pretty sure that means I'm officially a nurse. Not to mention I'm about six-feet-tall when I wear them. We can't all be as tall as Shelly, but we can sure try.

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