Luck of the Irish

Tonight, it happened again...I won a raffle prize-yawn. I know what you're saying, "I never win anything." I can't help it-it's in my genes. My dad was the same way-he was half Irish and everyone in Dubuque where I grew up said he had the luck of the Irish. I inherited the trait. It was embarrasing how often Daddy would win raffles-especially when they were work-related or with his many volunteer groups like the Knights of Columbus. I'm the same way. I'm shocked when I got to events and don't win. I always enter those cheesy things that say, leave your card, you could be eligible for a prize or buy a raffle ticket (incidentally doesn't seem to matter if I buy one or 10 tickets). Among my prizes: a TV, spa treatments, a cell phone, a designer purse, wine, gift basket, clothes and tonight a trip to Canada from the tourism board. This is a real prize-not those stupid "free" trips you get in the mail-throw them away! My colleague that attends Chamber events with me refuses to buy a raffle ticket or put his card in the hat for a free prize because he knows I'll win. My thrifty husband is very jazzed about my lucky streak -he makes sure we buy raffle tickes, enter our business cards at events, and fill out those pesky cards, but he doesn't understand why I don't win on that rare occasion. I can't explain it-the lottery doesn't work for me and neither does Vegas-just like my dad-it's all about raffles.
Unfortunately my winnings are just extras-they don't pay the rent-so I have to get back to work now. The good news is being a winner-no matter how small time-sure makes life more fun!

Bella Time

I pray for days like this, days where my time is all my own, days when I can "get things done!" and then, when they get here, I wish like hell I had something planned. Because cleaning out my son's closet of all the clothes that don't fit him anymore, watering the plants, or even doing my blog entry, these are all tasks without enforceable deadlines: and I need a damn deadline. I wasn't a TV reporter for nothing. I need a real and very active threat, like, oh say, getting fired or beaten to a bloody pulp -- I was in TV after all -- to make me get anything done. So today, instead of cleaning closets, I am farting around trying to log onto the blog, and I can't, and it's pissing me off, and Kuhl's hubby who set this whole thing up for us is still asleep -- did I mention it's nearly noon? KBH (Kuhl's beloved husband) WAKE UP! The clock is ticking. I only have two more hours before I have to go and fetch BC (beloved child) from preschool, and then this free day, this day where I had nothing planned: no dentist, no grocery shopping, no errands to run, this day of which I dreamed of finally getting to the projects that have been hanging over me -- I did mention that my plants are going on week three, or is it four without water? -- will be over, and I won't have accomplished squat. I should have gone to the gym. Then, even though my house would still be a dump, I would feel like I did something. Free time is so vastly over rated.