Mother's Day

I did not enjoy my volunteer experience at the trigirl sprint triathlon. I got there a little after 6 as instructed and was told by a lady who obviously needed help to "go over there and wait". I couldn't believe it, I had gotten up early and gotten there only to be told to wait, and when there was obviously lots of work!?  I was eventually instructed to get in a trailer and was taken out to a place on the bike part where I was left completely by myself, no water, no input as to what to do after the race, just stuck there to make sure the racers went this way not that way. It was clearly marked. I tried to make the best of it, cheer, etc, but it wasn't fun for me.  I jogged most of the way back, and there were no further instructions, not even after ward, to clean up. I did clean up some trash anyway, and came away with 3 finisher towels, a purple muscle milk swim cap which I gave to Johnny, some mini luna bars, and a bottle of muscle milk. Oh and an orange shirt that says trigirl crew on the front and the back.  Never again.

I felt pretty yuk by the time I got home and decided to cheer myself up by going for a run at Goose Creek trail. It was middle of the day but only about 75. Since I am training for the Baytown Heat wave I can't let heat bother me, anyway. I did get a little running in, but not as far as I would've liked due to Mother Nature. Fortunately there were a couple of secluded trees, and due to my background in primitive camping, I know how to squat. Yes its graphic but that's what happened. Anyway, I came on home and cried a little. I was feeling lonely for my kids, too.  Ames was here before he went to work and he hugged me and we talked a bit and I felt better. Carol went to the Duncans and Johnny was training for his tri so I was home alone. I put on an old Fleetwood Mac album and cut up a mango, a pineapple, some apricots, nectarines and apples and put them on the dehydrator. By the time I was done I felt way better, cuz Will and then Rachel called me. David called me last night, Bryan texted me, and Carol and Ames wished me Happy Mother's Day in person.  Hannah called me a bit later. I can't wait to see all of them Thursday.

I called my dear sister Ellen, who is so good about sending cards. She said she had decided to not go to church on Mother's Day anymore because it depresses her. I hadn't thought about that but I think if I had gone I probably would thought alot about Mother, because she loved the choir. I do miss her.

Pet peeves

I am writing this from work because google is actually not blocked by the server.

I have to deal with quite a few crazy people who believe that case managers are in charge of everything. I have this lady who keeps telling me that she needs me to .....   Pet peeve # 1: Don't tell me what I need to do! Ask me if I can, or if I will, but DON'T TELL ME I NEED TO. I don't need to unless I decide I need to.

Pet peeve # 2: I really hate being called "Ms or Miss Sara". Especially if you are older than I am. I don't even like it when children call me that. Just call me Sara, or if you are young and wish to show respect, call me Mrs. Tobin.   I have realized over the years that this is a southern thing, and is as deeply rooted in people as their enjoyment of eating crawfish. (shudder). I may have to move north of the Mason Dixon line.

Thanks, Ellen

Obviously I sorta quit writing here. I tend to do that. I have a paper notebook entitled Sara 2010 in which I wrote quite a bit for a few months. Then quit. I started this blog. Then quit. So my dear sister Ellen, my one follower :) reminds me that I was writing about my life and should finish. She just found the PAGES. I reread them and I agree, I need to write more.

okay I confess. I want  to write more, more transparently. So I started a private journal, just this week, on Penzu. com. I really am wanting to write more. But do I want anyone/everyone to potentially read it someday? I used to think not, in fact have destroyed everything I wrote in notebooks except the aforementioned. I am becoming less afraid of revealing myself to even myself.

So okay Ellen, I will try to write here, at least occasionally, and finish my story. And you, dear sister, need to blogitize your photos! :)