Class starts in 45 minutes, and my stomach is killing me. Nerves, nerves, go away!

Excellence

I sometimes like to think about how committed to excellence I am, and here is what I have come up with. I am not committed to excellence. I am committed to "good enough to get the job done well, but not waste time with things that will not make a big difference." I get really tired of hearing how everyone is committed to excellence all the time, but then has just so-so products anyway. I really think that if I was committed to excellence, I would be able to do far less than I currently do. In my job, If I was committed to excellence, I would get probably half of what I get done, done. In leading worship, if I was committed to excellence, I would probably spend 10+ hours on picking out music, practicing, and finding just the right scripture to go along with things. In my school work, if I was committed to excellence, I would spend that full 12 hours a week on homework that they recommend. In my piano lessons, if I was committed to excellence, I would spend time each week coming up with new and exciting ways to teach my kiddos what they should be learning each week. In my housework, if I was committed to excellence (aka a clean house), I would spend 2+ hours a day on making sure things are clean and tidy. The only thing I think I am truly committed to excellence in is my relationships with my husband and baby. They are pretty much the only things I think are worth the time and effort to be truly excellent for. My students will get by with 90%. My job will get by with 90%. My church will get by with 90%. My family needs 100%, and by golly, I think I'll give it to them!

A New Semester

On Thursday I start my next semester of classes. Today I wrote the check to pay for it. Bleah. I really, really hate writing those checks. That same check could have covered my mortgage for the next 3 months. Not to mention my back is killing me and I really need a new mattress. Oh well, I will greatly appreciate it all when I am able to call myself a nurse!

Meth House

Sometimes I marvel at how lucky I am to live in such a nice neighborhood. For instance, a meth house nearly blew up just a couple blocks away. Across the street from us is a nice lesbian couple who I'm pretty sure are also drug dealers. Or maybe prostitutes. Either way, their apartment gets a lot of traffic. About a block away is the block of liquor stores and casinos. With a hispanic thrift store right smack dab in the middle. Our best neighbors just moved to Minnesota, so their house is now for rent, and I hope a nice family moves in. I hope they keep the lawn mowed, don't pound music from their cars, and keep the front porch from getting cluttered with junk. I'm tired of the "economic diversity" that makes my neighborhood stinky.