Tonight I washed Robby's two litter boxes outside...by the light of the silvery light bulb. I was supposed to wash them in the afternoon with real live daylight. But it worked out just fine at 9:45 PM, and the air was a lot cooler, too.

Watched the movie The Talk of the Town. Tons of fun. I have to watch it again because it took me two weeks to watch it just once and I want to get my money's worth before mailing it back to Netflix. Really entertaining movie starring Cary Grant, Jean Arthur (my fav) and Ronald Colman. I didn't watch a little bit of the movie every day for two weeks. It sat in it's little Netflix envelope for two weeks, is what I mean. I'll bet you knew that.

I'm going to have a campfire and burn all my sports bras. (Hope no men read this blog besides Mike.) Down with sports bras forever!!! When I was at exercise class Monday night, my dumb new sports bra was TOO TIGHT. It shifted all my bones and muscles to the wrong spots. The next morning I woke up in agony because the pain went straight through from my upper left back to my heart. My heart is still out of kilter.

And not only that, but one day I wore one of two new sports bras that I bought that are the long style that covers your stomach. I had one on under my t-shirt all day. Then I wondered why my back was tight as a drum and tied up in knots. I ripped that straight jacket off and instantly felt tingles, like life flowing back into the...back.

This, my girlfriends, is why I am having a bra burning session. Sports bras, that is. Three strikes, since we're talking sports. Well, I'll see if DTD wants them, she did take the yellow one from exercise class already. Said it was pretty. She was funny, when she was stealing my rolls of paper towels, she came out of the laundry room, which is my "garage," and said, Are you throwing this away? She held up a black Champion sports bra that I had thrown in the good-bye pile because it was old and the elastic in the bottom band was all loose and ripply. Know what I mean? DTD didn't care, she stuffed it down the tube of the paper towels and off she went.

WHY? Why do I try anything at all besides eating and sleeping? And playing with R and J? Anything new and different, like Stretch and Strengthen, turns out very badly. So, this exercise class is no longer one of my pickles.

Yep, I read in the AAA Magazine that the best way to learn to manage your time is to think of a jar of pickles. The author said there were 415 million or so results when she Googled Time Management. Have you ever? So forget everything you ever read and go pickles.

Big fat pickles are your main and most important objectives for the day. You can have 3 or 4 at the most. Well, rocks. Next, you throw some pebbles in the jar and shake them down around the big dills. Pebbles are other but lesser things you would like to accomplish that day, at least a couple of them, like email and blog, heh, heh. Then you add sand which is your chores and other daily stuff. Then you pour in water and that represents family and you time.

The lady promises if you think pickles, you will learn effective time management.

I'm going for it because it sounds too easy.

You know the other day when I read about small houses and decluttering? One lady said that we own 50% more stuff than we need. Honest to goodness, I've said that many times myself. It was fun to see if verified in print by an organizing expert. I enjoy that kind of validation for my loopy ideas.

My good friend BJH commented on yesterday's blog. If you go back and read her comment, she tells you how to...comment. CAE, I want you to try this and see if you can comment. I will be looking for your comment. Good luck with trying to comment. Hey, I'm starting to sound like Bernard P. Fife. But JEO told me she left a comment last week and it never came through, because I never saw it...the comment, that is.

Looking forward to my Sunday afternoon nap,
KEM