Weekends

So, weekends are supposed to be relaxing, right? Right... (If you've seen The Emperor's New Groove then you'll read that in Kronk's voice.) (Oh, right then I tried to YouTube Kronk saying "Right..." but I couldn't find anything. Sorry.) Back to business. Relaxing? Not this past weekend. We got off work on Friday night at 9:30 or so and left for St. George. We got to Spanish Fork and stayed at Mark's brother's house. We left early the next morning and made it to St. George by early afternoon. Finally. A few minutes to lounge around, since I don't consider being in the car "lounging". At 6:25 we were out the door on the way to Mark's 5-year reunion. It was fun, but most of his friends and the people he knew didn't come. The food was good though, and it's a good thing because we had to pay $40 to go to this thing. So then we wake up Sunday morning. Hooray! Killer Bunnies with Mark's missionary brother, Kai. We had fun playing a few games yesterday morning. Off to church to listen to Kai. Back to Kai's house for pie. And on the road again. We left around 3:30 or 4 and didn't get home until 11. It was great to see Kai one last time before he leaves on his mission to Dublin, Ireland, but I'm just tired of driving. And guess what I get to do after school today? and tomorrow? That's right. Drive. Because it's my job. I'm glad it's just a job and not a career. Otherwise, I'd go crazy. And I'd never want to go anywhere because I'd always feel like I was traveling too much. I apologize for all of the negativity. I'd excuse it away to being tired, but in reality I'm just sick of my job (even though it's one of the best jobs I've had and I have no idea how I'll do in the workforce of statistics sitting in front of a computer all day. I'll probably complain then too, except that I'll be making more money.)

Sorry that there are no pictures. I'm hoping to find the charger for our camera so we can start taking pictures again.

On to more exciting things. I've decided to run the Top of Utah marathon next year. I have no idea where it starts, but it ends in Logan. And I'm definitely not a runner. But for some reason I feel like I have to prove to myself that I can do this. I don't care if I walk the whole way. I haven't accomplished something similar to this since my junior year of high school when I swam a race that caused my asthma to take over my body until I felt like I was going to die. I've been much less motivated to exercise to my fullest since then. I'm terrified that it will happen again. But I need to start pushing myself again to achieve things that matter to me. If I could swim that race again, knowing that it would end my swimming career, I would have tried even harder to be the best that I could be. Truth is, I miss it; the glory of winning races. I've been dying to say that to myself and anyone else who would listen. I miss swimming. I miss ballroom dancing. I miss doing things that I'm good at, or at least that I used to be good at. I never play my violin. Or my keyboard. Or the other instruments stored at my house. I miss the symphony, the choir. Sigh. Oh, the feelings that talking about the weekend can provoke.