Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Lemon into Lemonade

I was really upset last Wednesday. I got bad news, delivered bad news, got further bad news and then delivered more bad news. Then when I got home, I received a really nice letter in the mail about my weeds from my wonderful homeowner's association (this is called sarcasm).

I was pretty pissed as I pulled weeds five days later. I had hired a kid to do yard work a few weeks before because I was going out of town and read the guidelines of my homeowner's association and had til the end of March to get my front lawn in order. But, obviously he didn't pull many weeds - he mostly mowed. So, I was agitated.

After about an hour of pulling the stupid weeds, I decided to grab my ipod. I enjoy listening to music and thought that would help me pass the time while I got a sunburn and hurt my fingers and back. Then I remembered my favorite self-help series, but couldn't locate it on my ipod (dang it - I hadn't added it yet!).

I searched the house for a tape player. Found two! Then scrummaged around for the lost tapes as I was wasting valuable outside time - but I was determined! I finally found the tapes, even though the first one out of 6 was missing. The first one is my favorite, but I still love it all. It's called The Psychology of Winning.

I bought it in the mid 90s and of course originally bought it for the mental game of pool (but like so many aspects of the mental game, it helps in everyday life as well).

It was so awesome to listen to the tapes. I hadn't listened to them in over a year (maybe two) and it was pure bliss. It really made for less agitation toward the weeds and the Denis Waitley voice in my ears kept me working til I finished (and I didn't get a citation to pay - woo-hoo).

That night, my sore little fingers downloaded it to my ipod. :)

1 comment:

R Riley said...

This sounds like something Dalton would read... I wish our HOA would send some people notices about their dandelions growing up to my damn thigh.. instead they send us a notice for our garbage can being in front of our garage... A**holes!