Easier Said than Done

I used to be one of those people who could simply "choose to be happy" or "get over it." The problem with that is that when you're sad you don't feel as if you have any choice in the matter in the first place. And as for getting over it, I don't mind pushing the memories away; I just am bothered that they come up at all. I feel like that's a different problem altogether, but I can't put my finger on it. Should I just be okay with this Band-Aid that is repeatedly pushing the unsavory recollection aside? Because they pop-up when I'm doing the dishes or looking for clothes, it's not just because I have "too much time on my hands." It has to be something else. I'm working on just acknowledging them, shrugging, and then saying, "Oh well. Good times."

Whew. The end of this LAL-SA game (93-91 LAL, 3-1 LA lead) has left me unsettled. I think there was a foul on that last play. It's not that I particularly wanted the Spurs to win, but this playoff officiating can be a little sketchy, and I'm not sure that that goes in our favor (and by "our" I mean the Pistons).

So for some reason, the car GPS system just does not like me. She was acting quite temperamental on the way to Taco Bell this evening. But she got it together in the end.

The interview for My Dream Job is tomorrow. Needless to say, I am slightly terrified. Just hiding it well, so as not to embrace this anxiety. I shall overcome! And by this I mean picking a really great CD to listen to on the way over. Speaking of which, the mix CDs I burned from my Itunes play all screwy in the CD player in my car. One song will work, the next one won't, and the one after that will take forever to start. Which is unbelievably annoying. A quick visit to Yahoo! Answers gave me helpful info, but it will be a tedious problem to rectify.

I feel quietly romantic. The funny thing is that I'm wearing sweats and watching "Inside the NBA." Maybe it's because "Wake Up Alone" is humming through the speakers. Perhaps it's because my toenails are a seductive shade of Spiced Cranberry. I like the word "seductive" more than "sexy." I think I'd rather be called seductive than sexy (although both compliments are welcome, of course). Calling someone sexy is the cheap and generic way out. To be seductive is to use your own magnetism to attract, enthrall, and utterly enchant. Why settle for being sexy when you can be seductive instead? The bar has been raised, people. That being said, though, I'm not quite sure "SeductiveBack" has the same ring to it.