Program? What program?

Yesterday I decided to go ahead and upload some pictures from my camera immediately after taking them.  This is unusual because I usually wait a month or two to upload any pictures.  I wait because I like to be surprised by what I see.  Or maybe because I’m lazy.  Whichever.  But anyway… I decided to upload the pictures, so I went to my computer, and took my little mouse pointer over to the menu to open my camera software, and saw that there was nothing there.

Nothing.  There.

All of my programs, from my camera software to Works, were gone.  GONE.  They were completely wiped clean, and there was no saving them.

B and I spent an afternoon trying to figure out what happened and recover what we could.  Unfortunately, there was nothing to recover.  So I spent the rest of the evening reloading Windows onto my computer.  And then I reloaded drivers.  And then I spent an hour trying to get my anti-virus software onto the computer without having to pay for it again.  And then… well, let’s just say it took a while.

Now I’m back up and running, but afraid that the next time I try to open a program I’ll see that same horrible blank space because I have no idea what happened.

I told myself that I would start going through all the clutter downstairs today.  I told myself I would get the dishwasher loaded, start a loaf of bread baking, go grocery shopping, and then begin sorting through all the junk/toys that have accumulated downstairs since our previous trip to Goodwill last summer.  I told myself I would do all of that, and earlier this morning, I truly believed I would.  However, the only thing I’ve done on that list is go to the grocery store.  After all, the jalapeno poppers cannot bring themselves home from the grocery store.  Priorities, people!

The rest of the list is silently mocking me from my perch here in the kitchen.  Instead of just starting something and letting the momentum take me from there, I am on my computer, browsing through stores and checking Craigslist to see if there is something I might need (or wish I needed.)  I am practicing the fine art of procrastination.  Or maybe I should say avoidance.

I think what has me really locked up is the fact that I have realized there are only a few more weeks until I start work.  I always begin summer with grand ideas of what to do with the seemingly endless weeks of free time I’ll have.  And then when reality hits and I waste several days/weeks doing pretty much nothing, I panic.  I get depressed about it all.  I do nothing.

That whole course of action doesn’t seem to be working out well for me.

But you know what does work well?  Writing it all out for you — and the entire Internet — to read.  Boy, nothing motivates me to stop whining and get moving like actually reading the words in the screen.  So maybe I’ll start with the dishes and see where that takes me.  But don’t be surprised if I end up right back here, browsing and clicking.  It’s my comfort zone.

Almost asleep at the wheel.

We went out of town on Tuesday night.  It was a total spur-of-the moment trip, and I must say that we pulled it off very well.  You see, B has been traveling a lot for his job.  So when he called Tuesday from Virginia and said he would be going to Charlotte, NC later that day and asked if we would like to join him, I said, “Yes!”  And so I called the kennel and boarded my dog, packed a small suitcase, and loaded the kids into the car for a road trip.

We had a whirlwind of fun that ended with the de riguer whining-and-crying-fest on our way home.  And I am exhausted. 

zzzzzzz….

So I’ve heard…

Some people say we treat our dog like a person; a child, even. 

I say, I have no idea what they’re talking about. 

Done, and on to the next project.

While I spend all of my time frrr-eaking out about trying to find childcare for my kids, I’ll leave you with a couple of pictures of the painting we did in the kids’ rooms.  But don’t get too excited, because I don’t have any pictures of the finished products… just a couple during the painting.  But it’s all done, trust me.  And I hope to never paint their rooms again.  I found out that I do not like to paint at all.

Here’s my daughter painting her room:

And here’s what my room looked like with all her toys shoved into my room.  And, oh my gosh, it was such a mess:

Here’s my son’s room, in progress:

And while he did help, some, this was mostly his idea of helping:

And this is what the dog did while we painted — oh, after she had her latest bought of diarrhea on the living room carpet, that is: