We had the yard sale this weekend. In between the rain and baseball we threw all of our junk in the driveway and people came and scooped up the junk and called it treasures. We made a good amount of money, cleared the clutter and generally felt good.

I had my Stampin' Up party and had lots and lots of fun. People of all the different little corners of my small world got together and laughed and painted and stamped and created. I bought way too much and forgot to eat until way too late. Enjoyed the house full of noise. Enjoyed the silence of a post-guest filled house.

I saw an old friend this weekend. He was jogging by and stopped to say hello. I was very happy to see him but something has been bugging me. Little by little I am remembering parts of me--things I used to love to do, things I used to be able to do without fighting through so much emotional crap. But as happy as I am to feel and do those things again, I am afraid that they will be accompanied by the me I didn't like very much--the one who disappears too easily. I know this is all a bit vague but I feel like I am afraid to go back to those things I love for fear of losing all that I have worked to become in the meantime. I am struggling to find some kind of compromise.

Does that make any sense at all?

I spent a few hours working in the library at C's school. Finally, something I can volunteer for that doesn't involve cupcakes or fundraisers. Books I can do. Books I like.

Sparky and I spent the last few hours working on the basement and listening to the game. It's good to work on something together.

Oh, and as a measure of how much I love my kids (because I didn't let them go) and how much I love my husband (because I did go), I spent 95 minutes wondering, "What the hell is the matter with them?" this afternoon when we went and saw Jackass 2. I am almost embarassed to admit how hard I laughed.