Written @ 1:51 p.m. on 2007-08-16
The Secret
Let's listen to a little Stevie Wonder, eat pecan pie, and drink black coffee. Let's wear a cute summer top with my bra straps blantantly hanging out, and watch the girls build a fort out of blankets and dining chairs. I've been so tightly wound lately. Why do I get so worked up?
I haven't been right since the door got busted in, frankly.
Last night we had another late night movie night, and B. and I watched The Secret, which my sister was kind enough to send to me on DVD. I've seen it several times before, but it was B's first viewing. He was jumping out of his seat he liked it so much. He cited an example from his own life...he used to practice wrestling by himself in the ring all alone, against an imaginary partner. His favorite wrestler is Sabu, and he would imagine himself all the way through a match with Sabu. He was given the opportunity to meet Sabu, and he ended up spending the whole weekend with him as his driver. Sabu loved B's music and they turned out being great friends. Now, B hopes to build on that connection in the future. It was as if he used the Secret to will Sabu into his life, all those practice nights alone.
I'm going to kick myself out of this rut. It's all in the power of my mind.
Here is a nice thought-
I get so frustrated with the tech aspect of my job, but my new boss is just the cutest, nicest lady. I wanted to tell her that I quit today, I was so mad! But I told her I fixed my computer myself, after ten hours of working with totally incompetent "support" and she said,"Wow! I am so proud of you!" and I just melted. It didn't even occur to me that I could be proud of myself. Hmm. Yeah. I fixed it! Booyah!
I feel like Rosie The Riveter.
This entry sucks. Sorry.