No I'm not going to bed...

So you know how all those commercials you see talk about how great it is to work from home and go to college online in your PJs?

It's not so great.

I've been working from home in my PJs (yes everyday in my PJs) for almost two weeks now. It's boring. I snack too much. The times goes by much too slowly. All I want to do is pick up that for fun reading book on the coffee table or turn on the rather large and inviting TV just across the room. Plus the lighting is not at all right for focusing on work. It is better suited to a late afternoon nap (after the reading or the tv watching of course). I'm more of a doing something kind of worker. I enjoy being in the pool at swim lessons, talking to people at recruiting fairs or running my classroom of kids at the elementary school.

This girl is not suited for a desk job. Not one little iota.

On the bright side, due to my overabundance of time and energy and a more nonexistent social life than ever before I am going to the gym approximately 5 days a week. Getting in shape and being healthy is kind of an addiction. And why shouldn't it be (within the realm of reason of course). When you look better and feel better about yourself, why not work to keep it that way? Especially when you have nothing better to do and are consuming copious amounts of cookie dough, ice cream, and teddy grahams in the course of your 8 hour work day just steps away from your kitchen. (You/Your=I/my)

I ran nearly 3 miles last night and biked over 5. I enjoy the feeling of accomplishment when you push yourself that extra mile (I had been running only 2), and you think you can't do it but then you do. And it's never quite as bad once you come out on the other side of it. As a matter of fact, if I had the time I suppose I could have run more. Or maybe it just feels that way now while I'm sitting at home in my PJs on the couch with the knowledge I will be asleep in less than half an hour.

Oh and please riddle me this:

Does Charlie Daniels play a mean fiddle?




I'd give an arm and a leg to play like him . . . wait . . .