Tuesday, March 26, 2013

The Morning Text

Just when I think life can't get any funnier, it does.

I got a text from a friend, normally a night owl, who got up early to exercise. 
She said she struggled for quite a while to put on her sports bra.......until she realized it was a pair of undies.

I laughed out loud.

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

At the Welcome Center

We stopped at a rest stop at the South Carolina Welcome Center and saw this sign: 

My imagination ran wild!  Is it okay to wash my feet there?  Elbows?  Legs?  It looks like only hands and/or face washing is/are prohibited, yet the fine print states that the "Water Fountain Is For Drinking ONLY."  It's highlighted in red, which leads me to believe that washing other body parts might be frowned upon too. 

In all my travels I have never actually seen anyone taking a mini-bath in a drinking fountain, but ya gotta think that since a notice is actually posted, there must have been a problem at this location.  If people really are bathing in the lobby of the Welcome Center, is a sign going to stop them? 
The water fountain is just feet from the entrance to the restrooms where large quantities of soap and paper towels are readily available.  Are these dirty South Carolina visitors so lazy that they won't walk another few steps to get inside the bathroom to wash up?  
Every time I go to take a drink out of a water fountain from now on, I'm going to think of that sign. I think they should have added "and don't lick the spigot either" because I see little kids do that all the time. 

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

The Switch

I love Daylight Savings Time!  We gain an extra hour of sunshine at the end of the day and the world suddenly seems more fun. 

I wish it could be DST all year long!
Saturday night we stayed up late (no surprises there) and Jer switched the clocks before we went to bed.  Sunday morning when I got up, it was earlier than I expected but then it clicked:  We'd changed the time.  That explained that.  Full of energy and enthusiasm, I was ready to start this bright, sunny phase of the year. 

By 10:30 Sunday night though, I was feeling unusually tired.  I cheered up when I realized that just yesterday it would have been 11:30 and I decided to turn in early.  I fell asleep fast and slept well.

Monday morning when I woke up an hour earlier than usual, I was excited.  My internal clock clearly had been readjusted and I was enjoying the extra hour, feeling great about all that I could accomplish with my longer day.  Then Jack called. "Man!"  he said.  "I'm really having trouble adjusting to the time change this year!  It's always tough to lose an hour," he said.

Lose an hour?  I thought we'd gained an hour! 

In my ignorance, I'd tricked myself into feeling better when I was supposed to be feeling worseSuddenly, I was exhausted and it was only 10:30 in the morning...which would normally be 11:30...or is it 9:30?  This is way too much math for me AND I think I got up two hours earlier than usual.

Wednesday, March 6, 2013


I used to love to go to the filling station with my Mother.  When we pulled in under the big, beautiful sign with the flying red horse (with wings) a gas station attendant would rush out to the car and say, "Fill 'er up?"  Then  he'd ask "Regular or Ethyl?" 

The man would wash the car windows, front and back, and check the air in our tires too.  He'd check the fluid levels in the engine and use the mysterious dip stick and a red rag to see if we were running low on oil.  If we were, he'd remedy that on the spot by grabbing a can of oil that was sitting in a pyramid right by the pumps.  The whole event was handled professionally and took just minutes.  It cost Mom the change from her purse, pennies a gallon. 

A garage was attached to the filling station with a sign that said, "Mechanic on Duty."  If the car were making funny noises (or the steering pulling one way or the other) it would be driven into the bay and lifted sky-high.  Mechanics wearing white coats would examine the car and perform the necessary surgery right there in the car operating room while we waited.  They fixed flat tires there too.

I thought about this today when I went to the gas station.  No attendant rushed out to greet me.  No one washed my windows, checked fluid levels, the oil or the air in the tires.  I had to pump my own gas.

Instead of a mechanic on duty, there were two teenagers behind the counter inside the convenience store.  I waited in line behind guys buying lottery tickets then paid my twenty-five dollars.  It didn't even fill my tank to the half-way mark.  When I got back into my car to leave, my hands smelled like gas.

I realize I'm being nostalgic, but would somebody explain to me how this is progress?