drown out American Idol

So good news! The prodigal laptop has returned! Almost as good as new.... but so far it functions. I guess I can live without some of the bells and whistles as long as I can actually USE it.

Sometimes when I have my headphones in with my music turned up loud enough to drown everything else out, I remember what it's like to be inside the music. This is a phenomena first discovered in band and theater. When you're performing, you're enveloped in the sound, and part of it. It's safe and comforting (usually, haha). It's quite peaceful. And there's no darn American Idol. I think the world could possibly be better without American Idol.

I know i'm kind of jumping around. That's the kind of mood I'm in.

Oh, I haven't forgotten my challenges. I completed one- the early one. I tried to do it on a work day, but this proved difficult due to my living situation. Four adults plus one shower equal a very strict morning schedule. And honestly, at 5:00 in the morning, a shower is about the only productive thing I can muster. Picking out clothes ends in me staring blankly at the closet, and trying to read my devotional stuff results in the same blank stare. So instead, I woke up thirty minutes earlier on a Sunday morning. This meant that I was a)on time for church, b)able to put on my make-up BEFORE getting in the car, and c)didn't have to rush. I rather liked it. Granted, I rather like my sleep. However, it's possible that Sunday mornings could begin at 7:30a again.

Still working on the others... random acts of kindness and the live-as-homeless project. I'm trying to figure out how to separate the random acts from the day-to-day kindness that should automatically be part of our existence.

Today I tried to take a walk during my lunch break. Then it started raining (again). A quick movement in my peripheral vision caught my attention. It was a sparkly green hummingbird. It flew toward me, stopping about three feet from where I stood, then turned to fly away in an emerald blur.

We understood each other.