Some days are filled with motivation and other days I want to poop out on everything.  Today was one of those poopy days!  Thank heavens for Metallica’s “Enter Sandman” or I may have just given up altogether. 

Feeling so tired and sore I found this song and it energized me.  Goosebumps prickled my whole body while I basked in the gloriousness that is Metallica.  I love Metallica.  And the guitar solos remind me of my brother and my cousins jamming on their guitars.  They’re all self taught.  So cool. 

Rather than list the things I didn’t do today I will list the things I did do.  It’s more positive that way. 

1.  Read scriptures

2.  Worked out with Devon.  I felt good about this workout even though I skipped two exercises because there was no way I was going to do that much running and mountainboarding.  Besides, the calorie burn goal dropped from 235 to 205 when I clicked off those exercises.  I ended up burning 219 calories in 30 minutes.  Later I texted Heath my woes.  “Oh my finger, oh my thumb, oh my belly, oh my bum!”  Everything is sore.  I think my earlobes feel ok and my eyelashes.  Wait, no . . . they hurt too! 

3.  Managed to get everyone off to the park by 10:30 when I started my workout after 8:00.  Not that it mattered.  None of my friends were there.  Summer is a hard time for us all to keep our park day schedule. 

4.  Drank a weight loss shake for lunch because pressing the buttons on the microwave to cook 3 hot pockets  for my kids was too much effort and nothing sounded good to me. 

5.  Found the Metallica song which inspired me to just get the to do list done.

6.  Called Aetna to get my new ID and group number.

7.  Called the endocrinologist’s office to give them the new numbers so they could rebill Aetna.

8.  Called Mini Med to give them the new numbers so I would no longer owe them $700. 

9.  Vowed to never make those types of phone calls again!  The Mini Med lady did not understand what I was trying to tell her and I wasn’t super helpful with her questions because I only knew what I knew.  It was one of those moments where we both speak the same language but we were not communicating.  If the hospital lab wants money I’ll give them the new information then.  I’m not doing any more proactive calling to ask people to rebill my insurance. 

10.  Paid for a replacement library card since I can’t find mine anywhere and picked up Promise the Moon by Elizabeth Joy Arnold, a fellow person with Type 1 diabetes and writing lover. 

11.  Picked up Gavin’s birthday gifts from the eye doctor.  He got glass cleaning spray, a new cleaning cloth, a $50 dollar gift card for prescription glasses and a $30 gift card for non prescription glasses like sunglasses.  And anyone in the family can use the money if he doesn’t need it.  Plus the girl gave me a gift bag full of contact solution and other contact swag for me and Heath.  Just because we’re Gavin’s parents.  Happy birthday indeed!  Too bad Parker was never a patient.  Too bad we probably can’t see them anymore next month when we switch insurance companies. 

12.  Boiled eggs for deviled eggs for dinner tonight. 

13.  As much as I wanted to crash on the couch in front of Say Yes to the Dress or any other trash I could find, I decided to melt outside some more reading while the kids played in the pool. 

14.  My goal for tomorrow is to sleep until noon.  Here’s to getting it done!

It’s finally time to put one of these videos up.  I quote this song often enough.  Please note this song was not written by Baz Luhrmann.  The song was actually written by Mary Schmich as a newspaper article. 

The lyrics to Everybody’s Free to Wear Sunscreen, by Mary Schmich:

Wear sunscreen.
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proven by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they’ve faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you’ll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.

Don’t worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts. Don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don’t waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind. The race is long and, in the end, it’s only with yourself.

Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don’t.

Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You’ll miss them when they’re gone.

Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll have children, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else’s.

Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don’t be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own.

Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.

Read the directions, even if you don’t follow them.

Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents. You never know when they’ll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They’re your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you’ll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don’t expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you’ll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.

Don’t mess too much with your hair or by the time you’re 40 it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen.