The alarm rings. It’s 5:00 a.m. My first thought, is “BLAH!” I’m so cold and there are no little legs and no little toes and no little children. And the furnance has obviously gone out.
My second thought, is “Hallelujah!” The alarm woke me up. That means I was actually asleep!
I get dressed, take out the puppies and put water on for tea. Then I have this thought. This icky little thought. I don’t know where my Body Pump music is. Body Pump. As in the class I’m teaching in 20 minutes.
To a room of people who have also been awakened by their 5:00 a.m. alarms and a room full of people who will have a lot more to say than “BLAH!” if I don’t show up ready to teach. Ready, as in, with music.
It’s in my gym bag. That much,I know. But where the heck-o-la is my gym bag?
It’s no where to be found. And I blame my husband. My husband who has always been obsessed with clean cars. My husband who cleans and organizes and who used to tease me about trying to find a recipe in Galatians (and I’ve said this before, but it’s not really that far-fetched. I’m sure if you went to my Bible at this very minute, you could probably find a very good bread recipe). Last week I found a list of country songs that have played whenever I leave my attorney’s office, which is a little hard to explain, but basically I keep track of the music that is randomly playing on the radio when I leave the attorney’s office, which I get is a little “out there”, but trust me, it’s a great list and I’ll share it with you one day.
And I recently found the list in the book of Psalms. The last song on the list was “Who says you can’t go home?”
Anyway, my husband. He’s the one who first introduced the idea of cleaning out the van immediately after trips. The minute we would drive in…..14, 15 hours….there was a quick bathroom break and then we would start. And I am willing to admit that I grew to appreciate this little habit. But some of us are just wired differently and the truth is, I like having stuff in my car.
I like being able find a crayon at the exact moment that I need it. Or a piece of gum. Or 20-dollar bill.
I’m even OK with the occasional week-old corn dog. Last summer I found a check from a client for $80 that had been written in April. Now I get that that doesn’t make for great book-keeping, but are you kidding me? Finding $80 in your car? Awesome!
(And you need to sing the Awesome…like sing-songy, “Awwwwesoooome!”)
Back to my husband. I mean my van. It had been a week since our trip and I hadn’t cleaned out the van and the kids and their friends were having to walk over legos and coloring books and baby dolls and even I was to the point that if there had been some sort of accident, I would have been horrified at the possibility of emergency personnel seeing the inside of my van.
And so I cleaned it. And by clean, I mean I put everything in a huge laundry basket and took the basket to the basement. Don’t judge me. We are going to Arkansas in December and I’ll just have to get it all out again. (For the record, I threw the corn dog away).
But my bag! I could not find my bag and their poor dad. Even this was his fault! (Just kidding. That was a joke. Sorta.)
But this story ends well. (Well, for me it ends well. Not so great for the Body Pump class.) After tearing my house apart (and putting it back together), I found my bag at the Y. Three hours after my class. So, as it turns out, my clean van had nothing to do with the missing gym bag and everything to do with the fact that I left it in the fitness center last Friday.
Whatever. The moral of this story is still that clean cars are highly over-rated.