Ugh. Back to school for me today. Have I mentioned March 10th is my last day of class? I'll buy the shaving cream. My mom-in-law and sis-in-law are planning a party of some sort. This slight social phobia thingy I've acquired leaves me with an aversion to plans of get-togethers, especially ones centered around me. Funny, how people are. Won't be funny if I freak out about it, my stomach turns to knots, and I spend party time in the can. Husband's family probably thinks I'm bulimic. I wish.

So, back to school. My kitchen needs a second coat of paint, the curtains I made for it need another piece sewn to the bottom of one panel, the living room wall I patched up needs a sanding and third coat of joint compound in some places, then I need to paint, I have yet to straighten Rachel's room (meaning rid of toys), I meant to wash the washable floors, and I'm not even to the middle of a baby blanket I'm crocheting for my coworker's Olivia born on Christmas. There's also my trio of kids.

It's rare the day of the perfect amount of time. Usually there's too much time or too little. Time and I fight. I just watched a movie where a guy on mushrooms said all we are is time. I agree with him. I once posted my own quote here that all I am is a matter of time. I fight with myself, then. Meditation beats thinking. But sometimes my thinking doesn't feel like meditating.