Let's not talk about how either of my football teams did this weekend, okay? Okay.
Better weekend news? I made a giant to-do list of things to do over Saturday and Sunday, and guess what? I got them all done. And they were all legitimate to-do items, not things like "shower" or "read your book" or other nonsense items that I don't need a reminder or list to actually do. They were things like "clean the fish tank" (ugh, what a process), "make smoothies for the week" (messier than I anticipated), and "send week report to the boss" (because happy boss = happy life). And this was only three of the twelve or so items on the list. I'm pretty proud of myself, and I even made time for a nap.
So back to cleaning the fish tank...are fish always this hard to catch? Or is Moriarty just an elusive little wiggler that seems impossible to just get in to the cup (evidently you can't use nets with bettas because their fins are delicate, and since I'd be a little traumatized if I ripped my fishes fin off, I'm heeding this warning)? I eventually had to put my other hand in the tank and just shove him in there, and he wasn't happy. Or at least as not-happy as a fish can be before they forget what's happened. Regardless, the tank is clean and the fish is alive with all his fins intact. I call that a success. Until next Sunday, Moriarty...until next Sunday.
Tomorrow I have to go get blood drawn for my yearly physical. It's always a good time when I get to go to a new lab and tell the phlebotomist, "I'm a fainter." Once the needle is in my vein, I'm good. Until then, you best let me lay down and possibly have someone hold my hand.
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