Stress...

Is not fun.

Ever.


I'm going to die now.

Your Mother Is My Home...

I'm sitting in bed watching a movie right now (don't you love wireless internet!!!). I've seen this movie several times, though I won't mention it's name for fear of losing any bit of manhood I have managed to muster in these 26 (almost 27...arrrrrgh) years of living.

When watching it this afternoon, I heard a line from one of the main characters that I remember hearing before. It's a sweet line about his love and affection for his wife. See, his wife has dimentia and can't remember anything about her life. Her kids, her husband, her job, everything is gone. The husband has resigned himself to just being around her in hopes that every now and again she'll pop back into reality (okay, by this point, I've given the movie away).

There is a scene about halfway through the film when the kids come to visit their parents in the old person facility. The mom doesn't recognize any of her kids of course, much to the sadness of her children. After the mom excuses herself, the son turns to his dad and begs him to return home.

The father's reply is priceless.

"Look guys, that's my sweetheart in there. I'm not leaving her. This is my home now. Your mother is my home."

There is a beautiful passage in Ephesians 5 that talks about a husbands love for his wife. It speaks of giving up of himself. But more than that it speaks of Christ's love for his bride. As I heard the actor say those lines, I couldn't help to first think of my wife. My beautiful bride. I would do anything for my wife. I know I'm not perfect and I have a temper, but when I think of the girl with the green eyes, I can't help but smile. She's my world.

But as I pondered more into his (the actor's) love for his wife, it reminded me of the verse in Ephesians and I gained new insight into Christ's love. I can't help but think of Christ on the cross. I can't help but think of the angels who looked down from heaven and couldn't understand why a perfect son would sacrifice himself for such an adulturous wife. I can hear them beg the son,

"Please, come home. Come back and everything will be as it was."

The son turns his face to the darkened sky and with a phrase encapsolates it all,

"It is finished."

He left the diety of God for the humility of man. He left the power of God for the frailty of man.

When the Son turned to the Father and told Him it was time to go, the Father knew he was right. A tear fell from His cheek as He asked the question He already knew the answer to, "Are You sure?"

His reply was simple.

"My sweetheart is down there. I'm going to her. That is my home now. She is my home."

Sometimes, Reality is Reality

I love reality shows. Lately, Monday night has been the night to watch. At nine o'clock on NBC you have "Treasure Hunters." I am hooked on this show. It's a great adventure that includes both brain and braun and deals with early American History. How can you not love that! The contestants sometimes are a little ho hum, but overall, it is a great show.

Next comes "Road Rules, Real World Challenge." I've watched this ever since the original battle of the sexes when Johnny Mosley was the host. Also a fantastic show. I think MTV just knows how to edit well.

It was on this show that last night that something one of them said struck me.

It was a conversation between Derek and Diem. Okay, maybe not so much a conversatioin seeing that both of them were drunk, but they were mouthing the words none the less. This is pretty much how it went:

<Derek> "How can You like me? I'm so........WOOOOOOOOOOO" (as he flails his hands in the air acting crazy)

<Diem> "Yeah, but the 'WOOOOOO' is what makes it exciting"

<Derek> (very contemplative) "............yeah."

I think God is a lot like that. Not so much the drunk part but the 'WOOOOO' part. I think we like to picture God as this real safe guy who has everything under control. I think only half that is right. I do think God is in control, but I think his control is a little bit outside my comfort zone.

I know every writer in the world has quoted C.S. Lewis, so without further adieu:

"Is---is he a man?" asked Lucy.

"Aslan a man!" said Mr. Beaver sternly. "Certainly not. I tell you he is the King of the wood and the son of the great Emperor-Beyond-the-Sea. Don't you know who is the King of Beasts? Aslan is a Lion--the Lion, the great Lion."

"Ooh!" said Susan, "I'd thought he was a man. Is he---quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion."

"That you will, dearie, and no mistake," said Mrs. Beaver, "if there's anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they're either braver than most or else just silly."

"Then he isn't safe?" said Lucy.

"Safe?" said Mr. Beaver. "Don't you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe. 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you."

Most of the time, when we are trying to control everything, I don't think we are feeling God's 'WOOOOO'. I think we want to have everything planned out. Knowing where our next paycheck is coming from. Knowing where we are going to sleep that night and what car we'll drive in the morning. I think the more we try and control, the more we lose the 'Wooooo'.

And when we lose the 'WOOOOO,' we lose the excitement.

I don't want to loose that. I want to keep the 'WOOOOO' alive. I want to trust in God's organized chaos of life. I want to live life not in the safety of his will, but in the danger of it. I want to step out of that boat and meet Jesus on the water. More than that, I want to crawl up on the cross and die to myself.

Oh, give me the courage to meet Aslan. To look at the King with trembling knees. If I can do that, I know one thing...somewhere inside of me, there will be a 'WOOOO'.

And unlike Derek and Diem, I'll probably remember it in the morning.

Gotta Be Numero Uno...

So I find this really interesting. I'm going to venture a guess that we are the only nation in the world that ranks our churches. I know, I know, this is a ranking of the most "influential" or whatever. Let's just say it...

'BEST.' There, we said it.

What we really mean are these are the best churches. Is this what we are to strive for? Maybe in our western civilization there is no way around a competitive attitude. I know every preacher on the list is just happy to be recognized (and I'm sure they are all very godly men) but you can't tell me ol' Ricky Warren is happy at number two. Somewhere inside that cat is a tiger wanting to be number one.

I'm not making fun of these churches. God knows I will never hold a candle next to these guys. I'm making fun of the ranking system. What is 'influence' anyways. I know the maxwellians out there will let me know that leadership=influence. So great. These churches have the largest number of leaders out there.

Congratulations. Here's your prize. A lifetime supply of John Maxwell books and free addmission to the Willow Creek Leadership Summit.

Anywho, along with leaders, I hope these people are having an influence on their poor, widowed, hungry, and homeless. That, I think would make everyone's top fifty.

I am addicted to YouTube.com...

But seriously, with this kind of stuff, how can you not be?

How Many Hail Mary's Is This Worth?

I was reading my Bible today and came across this. I know we've all heard the last part of that before. We've seen it on athlete's shoes, on signs at ball games, lots of places. But when you read it in context, I think we find it's not about God helping us to make the free throw, or catch the touchdown pass.

I think it's a little more deeper than that.

I often find myself frustrated in my job. It's long hours, complicated, hot, and I deal with construction people all day long. I often go home wiped out and just ready to crash. It's just not what I want to do with my life.

Then I'm reminded of this verse. Being content in ALL circumstances.

I got a call the other day from a former customer of mine. He said he was creating a position for his company and thought of me. Thought I'd be a good fit.

I was pumped. I still am. I was thinking as I was driving back to my site from lunch how it would just be perfect. It deals with the quality assurance side of homebuilding. I thought, "God, I can see your hand in this. I can see the experiences you've given me and how you've prepared me for this. Finally, a job I can be content with."

It was in that momment, when I prayed that word content, that I felt the Spirit speak.

"What if it's not for you, can you still feel me leading you?"

I almost had to pull over.

God forgive me when I put other things in front of you thinking it will bring me happiness. God forgive me when I look for contentment in everything but you.

With you, I am content. With my job, with my life, with my marriage, with everything. Not because you make those things better, but because you are better than those things.

Five Foot Nothing...

This gives me chills...

Is That What He Means By Lukewarm?

Okay, seriously, I think I'm going to vomit.

No joke.

I went to a 'real' church for the second week in a row. Last week we were in Seattle and hit Mars Hill to hear Mark Driscoll speak. Didn't blow the roof off the place, but it was good for my heart to see the church seeking God through the scriptures and worshipping with new songs.

This week.....not so much.

I won't name the place, though I will pray for it so it might fall on it's knees in repentance (though that probably isn't likely).

It started off normal enough. Three songs of worship (new enough to be cutting edge, keyboards enough to be adult contemporary). Something that bothered me (and this is all personal), one guy on guitar led the first song, a chick with a mic led the second, and the guy behind the piano led the third. They all had great voices, but I wasn't sure the point behind splitting up the songs, but like I said, that's all personal.

Next, the youth minister stumbles out talking about the two weeks of camp he just came from and that he's hardly awake. Probably not the guy you want doing the announcements, but whatever.

Then the token special. 100 years by five for fighting. Excellent.

Then lighting struck. Well, it should've, cause then it would've stopped the abomination that causes desolation from taking place.

Seriously, it was that bad.

His topic was "How to Balance Work and Life."

I looked around.

Yeah, there's a crowd and a stage and a soundboard and microphones and lights. This is church all right. For a momment I thought I had stepped into a self help seminar.

"H0w to Balance Work and Life."

He quoted a science text book more than he quoted the bible. He used Jesus as the ultimate example of balance.

First of all, no duh, Jesus is the ultimate example of everything. However, Jesus was homeless and jobless, so unless you are advocating a mass exodus in the work force, I'm not sure that completely applies.

Now, maybe in the infinate wisdom of the elders they decided that this church was getting too full of workaholics so they searched out the formost expert on this.

But I doubt it.

Worst of all, his three points for keeping life balanced were: task lists, relationships, and rest.

I'm not kidding. Nothing about reading your bible or praying to begin your day. Nothing about keeping God first and letting everything else be small stuff. Nope; tasks, relationships, and rest are the way to do it. He even had us draw an example on our notes. It's an upside down triangle (doesn't that mean you're gay?). Tasks in the upper left, relationships in the upper right, and rest at the bottom.

I've preached some bad sermons in my life. But may I never, ever preach a sermon on balancing life and work. And if I by some off chance I am forced to, please, please, shoot me.

At least I won't have to vomit.

Got Jobs?

I just decided that I want a new job. I'm really tired of mine. Unfortunatley, it pays well, so this will be hard. I'm throwing this out there to see if anybody has some suggestions for a job that will let me sleep in past 6:30 am and pay decent. Any suggestions?

The Great Wilderness

This is a picture of the Hubbard Glacier. It is located just a bit north of Skagway, Alaska. This is one of the many pics I took on our trip. If you would like to see more, go to my myspace site here.

Sorry if this doesn't do the beauty of this area of our great country justice. You'll just have to visit it yourself.

Ain't Nothing But a Prayer Thing Baby...

So, I know it's been a long while since I gave a blog. We just got back from vacation and I was waiting until we got our pictures loaded onto our computer so I could share a few of the good'ns with you. But alas, the day before we came back I dropped our camera in the middle of Pike's Place Market in Seattle and well, right now I got nothing. The camera was shipped off to the manufacturer and we won't have it back for about four more weeks. Sucks. So, we are going to take the memory card to Wally World this weekend and try and load them on a cd or something. I'll post them when I can.

On other news, church was really great last night. After our core member's coversation two weeks ago I decided we ought to do a study based off Acts 2:42. I know this is somewhat overused, so instead of studying that verse we looked into the key components making up that verse. I decided to start with prayer, since it seemed to be of upmost importance to our savior. Out of all the verses that deal with prayer (and there are many) I focused mostly on what Jesus said of prayer.

I found a few peculiar teachings that I thought I would share.

First, Jesus tells a parable in Luke 11 about a man who has a friend come to town. He doesn't have anything to share with this friend so he goes to another friends house even though it's late at night. He bangs on the door and asks the man for some bread to share with his friend that was in town. The man says it's late, come back later. But the man at the door just keeps knocking and knocking until it eventually opens and he get's what he is asking for.

On the onset, this looks like Jesus is saying, "Just keep asking God for it and eventually he'll get tired of your asking and give you what you want." But I think there is more to this. First of all, if the man at the door was asking for a million dollars so he could impress his friend, I don't think he would've received it from his other friend. Secondly, the reason he was asking was because there was someone he was in relationship with who was in need. So he asked the only one he knew who could fulfill that need for his friend. I think this story reveals a lot more behind the motives of prayer rather than the persistancy of prayer.

Second, in his sermon on the mount, Jesus teaches us about prayer. In Matthew 6:8 Jesus tells us that God knows what we need before we even ask. This began a great discussion on the necessity of prayer. Why pray if the outcome is already known?

I think my sister (who is in town visiting) had the best insight on this. She mentioned how sometimes her daughters will hold up two different pairs of shoes. Maybe one goes with the outfit and one doesn't. It's not so much that she cares which pair of shoes her daughters wear. It's that her daughters care enough to ask for help. Her daughters want their mom's influence and love in their life. I think when we think of our relationship with God in these terms it can shed quite a bit of light into our lives.

Lastly, Jesus gave me some encouragement. He tells us in Matthew 18 that when two or more of us agree on something on this earth it will be done. He also says that where two or more are gathered, he is with us.

Now, I don't think that means God leaves us all alone when we are by ourselves. I think Jesus is emphasizing the importance of coming together and praying. In our weak moments when we are praying by ourselves, we may be tempted to ask for the million dollars or the perfect job or the perfect spouse. But when we come together as a church, there is an accountability that happens. Maybe if it's something you can't pray about together as a church, then it isn't something you need to pray about as an individual.

We had a whopping 5 in attendence, but I guess that meets the criteria.

Sorry folks...Church is cancelled.

It started with a phone call on Monday night. Two of my friends had heard me talk about our house church enough that they wanted to come Thursday to see what it was all about. I was so excited.

"Finally," I thought. "Things are starting to happen."

Over the next few days I called our 'members' just to make sure they were coming and to let them know we were going to have 'visitors'. One by one they seemed to all drop out. One is on a cruise. One has to work. One is out of town. One wants to spend the evening with his girlfriend. One had to work.

"What's going on?" I thought.

I was super bummed. I called my friends and told them not to come. This would be the second week in a row that beer church would be cancelled due to lack of participation. I had made up my mind.

Beer church was over.

It made me sad. Like a part of me was dead. And it was. I had such high hopes for a house church. I truly saw the need for something like this in our community. Something that was authentic. Where barriers came down and no one was there to impress anyone, but everyone was there to glorify God. A place where we could discover what it meant to be a church and travel that road together.

After two of our 'members' got off work, they ended up coming over. I told them my disappointments. Suprisingly, I was met with theirs. The more we talked the more I realized they wanted beer church as much as I did. The problem was, beer church didn't exist.

Oh sure, we had a Bible study every week. But where was the worship? Where was the communion? Where was the confession? Where was the prayer? And not the end of the meeting, do it out of obligation prayer. Where was the excruciating, soul reaching, depth of my splatna prayer? It seems the very things I was afraid of pushing were the very things they were craving. I was so afraid of taking leadership and being placed in a position I wasn't even sure I wanted to have exist at beer church, that I was missing the opportunity to lead these people to God.

It's amazing how nights when church is cancelled, God still shows up.

Um.........WOW!

This is absolutely one of the most amazing things I have ever seen in my entire life. This was during an actual game.

Had a Bad Day Again...

I'm sad today.

Yesterday I went to an orientation for college. Sitting in a college classroom listening to degree requirements and class possibilities kind of got me excited. I started thinking about all the different experiences I could have. Pottery, History of Rock and Roll, Theater, History of the American Presidency. The excitement within me grew and grew like an unborn child.

Then came reality.

That life will never be mine. I had forgotten that I am not a college student. I am a professional home builder who is trying to squeeze a degree into this life I've been given.

I depressed myself for a little while thinking of the life I could've had. The life I missed out on. There are so many experiences I will never have. So many opportunities that will never be mine.

But then I remembered the girl with the green eyes. I remembered how peaceful she looks when she sleeps. I remembered how beautiful her hair is in the wind. I remembered how endearing her voice is on the phone.

The college life will never be mine.

But the girl with the green eyes is, and that's all the memories I need.

Amazing Grace Indeed

This is why I'm a Colts fan.

(thanks Joey for the link.)

My Spiritual Life is Like a Football Game...

When I was in the eighth grade, I was the second string quarterback for our football team. No matter how hard I tried, I just wasn't as good as the number one quarterback (granted he had been held back a year, so he was a year ahead of me...). Playing time was few and far between. Until my momment came.

We were playing one of our county rivals, Western (the other two county schools were named Eastern and Northwestern. Clever, I know). The score was tied and the clock was winding down. We got the ball from a punt and began driving down the field. We get to the one yard line and all of the sudden, I hear my named called. I jumped up off the bench next to the water cooler (as was my customary spot) and ran up to the coach. Seems first stringer Manboy had some sort of equipment problem. Probably because his head was too big for the helment. Anywho, the coach gave me a play and sent me in.

I was nervous.

But, the play was simple. Snap the ball, turn to my left, pitch the ball to the running back.

'Snap the ball, turn to my left, pitch the ball to the running back. Snap the ball, turn to my left, pitch the ball to the running back. Snap the ball...' I repeated to myself over and over.

I approach the line.

"Blue fourteen, blue fourteen. Set. Hut."

The ball is snapped. I turn to my left. I raise my arms to pitch the ball to the running back.

Problem.

Somehow in the excitement of snapping the ball and turning to my left, I had mistaken empty air for a football. I turned around to see the ball lying peacefully just behind my center's big butt.

Instinctively I reached for the ball. Once it was safe in my arms I closed my eyes and headed for the promise land. Soon the pressure of other eighth grade bodies pressing down on me was all I could feel. The wistle blew and slowly, the release of pressure began. I opened my eyes to see the official raising his two hands.

TOUCHDOWN!

After that play, I proudly trotted back to the end of the bench.

I really can't remember if we won that game or not. That might've been only one of many touchdowns scored that night. But for me, it was the only one that counted.

I think God's work is a lot like that game. We aren't always going to be on the front lines. Most of the time, we're probably going to be on the sidelines while God uses others to do his work. I just think that when the time does come, and he calls your name, that it's important we remember what we've learned. Sometimes we're going to drop the ball, but if we'll pick it up and head for the goal, somehow, things always end up okay.

Missing The Point I Think...

Last night my wife and I had dinner with a former student of hers. She is now married to a youth minister in Iowa. That makes me feel old.

On the way to dinner my wife and I had a "discussion" about working at a church. There have been a couple of instances of interest from other churches that have definately whetted my appetite for ministry again. I'd say I miss about 90% of working at a church.

So we went to BW3's or as most of the world calls it Buffalo Wild Wings (I'm not sure where the 'West' went to...). I ordered my usual non-tuesday special of buffalitos. This time I wasn't feeling too saucy so I went for the mild instead of my usual medium sauce. Bad choice.

Anywho, we got to talking about the ministry they were doing in Iowa. It sounds like it's really taught them a lot and they are doing some good things there. There were two issues that she brought up that I thought I would blog about.

First, she said they are dealing with a situation where there is a youth sponsor who wants to help out in their youth ministry, but doesn't attend their church on Sunday mornings. I guess the church they are at has a rule that you can't be a youth sponsor unless you are a 'member' of their church. Her husband even went so far as to say to the sponsor, "you know, you have a real gift for ministry. It's up to you if you are going to use it or not." Some how implying that if he doesn't become a member, he's going to be a bad steward of God's talents.

Wow! Maybe I missed that class in college. You know the one where it explains that each church is seperate and independant of each other. Oh wait, that's right, we aren't! Last I researched there was one body of Jesus. There was one church. So what if one worships on this mountain and one worships in Jerusalem. We are all children of God right?

This leads to the second point. I asked why they wouldn't want to attend their church. Then she made a comment that made my skin crawl. She said she wouldn't attend their church either if her husband wasn't employed by it.

Double wow! You know, a prostitute wouldn't have sex with her johns if they weren't paying her either. I'm not sure if that says says something about the church or about the minister. Now, I understand missionaries. I understand going to a third world country and not being a part of the culture or community, but ministering to them out of love. Maybe that's what this is. Maybe.

But I doubt it.

This is America. You're telling me that there is such a surplus of ministers in this country that the wanting are left to the scraps. Or better yet, there is such a surplus of Christians in communities you would rather live in that you had to move to the boonies to reach the non-christians?

I don't have a problem getting paid to do ministry. I have a problem being a ministry whore. Going where the good money is. Going where the good ministry is. How about going to the people you love? How about going to the city you love? How about going to the neighbors you love? How about not moving every 2-3 years in search of the latest and greatest. Or how about changing what you don't like at your church so that you would attend there.

I could write a book about how youth ministry has become a sub-church of the church instead a part of the whole. How do church leaders expect the church to reach the people of the area, if the ministers wouldn't even go to the church. Do you think they are just going to come because the youth minister is cool or has his program planned out for six months for their kids? Even if they do, do you expect their kids to actually want to attend church once they have a choice, just because it's the right thing to do?

I'm sure I'm way off base here. I'm sure I've just been burned to bad to see a good thing for a good thing. But that's the 10%. That's what I can't get past.

The Mob and Egg Sandwiches

It's funny the memories that come back to you.

A few years ago, there were four of us that would meet weekly to become better men. Sometimes it would be to play ball, play video games, or just talk. Most of the time, there was a book we were going through that would spur our conversation.

I remember one morning when we got together we were hungry, so Mark suggested going to Salvinos. I'd never been there before, but I remembered one time having a bite of Mark's sandwich that he had brought home from there, so I was down.

We drove down Boulder Highway to this corner shop in a run down strip mall. To be honest, I was a little leary of eating anything coming out of this hole. But we walk in and we were instantly transported to New York. On the wall opposite the door there was this giant poster/wallpaper of the city skyline. There were sausages and other various meats hanging behind the counter. Uncle Guido was sitting in the corner smoking his cigar playing checkers with himself. If the Mob is still running Las Vegas, this is where they eat.

We get our egg sandwiches and fried potatoes and sit down at the one table in the shop. Pretty soon Uncle Joey and Uncle Frank come through the front door.

"Hey Sal," they yell to the guy behind the counter.

"Hey Joey, Hey Frank" yells Sal.

I was loving it. I've never watched the Sopranos, but I've seen Good Fellas enough to know they just came back from whacking a guy. Probably buried him in the desert. That's what I would do.

Uncle Guido asked us what book we were talking about. At that time it was "Wild at Heart" by John Eldredge.

"You guyz are Christians?" He asked.

"Yeah." I said.

"I'm Catholic". He said.

Go figure.

He then proceded to tells us how much he loved the virgin Mary and how she watched over him and how often he prayed to her. He showed me the virgin Mary tatoo on his shoulder. He showed me the virgin Mary medallion around his neck.

"You ever prayed to Mary?" he asks me.

Now, I've never prayed to Mary before in my life. Still haven't.

"Sure." I said.

"Yeah. She's great." He says.

With that we finished our sandwiches and left. I don't know why I remembered that this morning. But I'm glad I did.

Take Him at His word...

Podcasts are the coolest thing in the world. If you have an ipod or some other mp3 device, you can download hours and hours of entertainment. And the best part is, it's all free! Some of my favorite podcasts are of Sen. Barak Obama (D-Ill.), Jack Black's Confessional from the set of Nacho Libre, and of course, the parody to the president's weekly radio address.

But perhaps my most favorite are two preachers. Two very different preachers. One is a guy named Erwin McManus from Mosaic in Los Angeles and the other is Mark Driscoll from Mars Hill in Seattle. I like these guys because they are so different from each other. Erwin is very comtemplative and feelings oriented. Mark is very traditional and biblically based. Both are great.

Recently, on my way home from work, I was listening to one of Mark's sermons. The sermon was actually on marriage, but that's not what caught me. He spoke about trusting Jesus. It was one of those momments when a spiritual truth just kind of hits you out of no where.

Trust.

What does it really mean to trust Jesus?

I thought about that for a long time. I mean, really, when it comes down to it, I don't have a problem believe that a guy named Jesus lived about 2000 years ago. I really don't have a problem believe that he said the things the bible says he said and did the things the bible says that he did.

The problem for me is a bit more internal than that.

Do I really trust him? Do I really trust what he says? Am I really placing my trust in him and through him to where "rust and moths" can't destroy it?

The answer is so hard, yet easy to discover. I simply have to look at my life.

If I really trust Jesus, then I'm living the gospel. Then I am being a light into the darkness. Then I don't really need to tell others I'm a Christian, my actions will speak for me.

Of course, if I'm not living this way, I don't trust him.

Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus
And to take Him at His word
Just to rest upon His promise
And to know, "Thus saith the Lord"

Jesus, Jesus, How I trust Him
How I've proved him o'er and o'er
Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus
Oh for grace to trust Him more!

Workers block?

So this is what writers block feels like.

Since last monday, I have worked 9 days straight. And not just 8 hour days mind you, I'm talking 10-16 hour days. That's a long time. I've worked over 110 hours since last monday. For my foreign friends, that means working on a holiday that everyone else and their mother get's off. But not me.

All that has left me with this....I have nothing to say.

Maybe I'm too tired. Maybe I'm just not creative and ten blogs was about my limit. Who knows?

I know this. When I work this much, I'm no good. I fight with my wife because I'm pissy. I completely neglect my walk with God. I don't stay in touch with friends and I eat shabbily.

So, no more workey. Need sleepy. Need fluff pillow.