MONA-- **kicking the laundry monster**......AND STAY DOWN BITCH!!!

(Excerpts from Facebook exchange)
Mona (not her real name)--i think my children are allergic to washing a load of towels.

Awareness Is The First Step
JN--Its a problem. Not everyone understands nor do they respect this disease. . .I, mean CONDITION. The first step is awareness. Once people know that 97 percent of people are inflicted with this condition, then we can take strides. We are considering a help line and future fundraisers for allergies against cleaning in general. It's an epidemic. The government is keeping under wraps to avoid widespread panic. The billboard campaign will come out in March of 2010. Please understand. You, too, can be infected. Wear masks. Wash your hand to avoid possible contamination.

Mona--So Jeff.....what is the cure for said condition??

JN--(Glad you asked. . .) Its call overloading. You give the children the wonderful task of washing clothes until they become numb. Keep bombarding with loads and loads and loads of laundry. Dirty, clean, never-worn clothes-just give it to them to wash. Got to build the antigens for washing towels. They will build a tolerance. Active immunity at its best. Build the antigen for washing. Before too long they will just wash, with no lip too. Who knew? Torture works (No, I do not subscribe such practice. It's a joke. . .okay, I do. Anyways)

JN--You can try the booster shot method. Give them small loads and ease into their lifestyle, but this is not as entertaining (as the aforementioned)

JN--Yet, still one more method. Not as long lasting, purely short-term. Bring them to a cleaner and have them launder the clothes. If they are of driving age (and even if they are not. Just as long as the feet touch the pedals) give them cash and car keys and tell them to get it done. If they learned anything, then you come home with nicely pressed towels. Starch is good word for you to teach. Remember learn them good.

JN--If its a severe case, tell them to go buy new towels. This is an extreme measure and you have to be on a donor allergy-washing-loads-of-towel list. No an easy list to get on. May need government assistance. I am sure there is a university working on this condition as we speak. You got to do what you got to do.


Laundry Polio Shot?
All joking aside. There is something about washing clothes. I really hated it. There was time where I just dropped off my laundry in plastic trash bags at the cleaners. Now, I do my own. All of last year in my journal, at least half of my "to-do" list was washing of some sort. Wash clothes. Wash cars, Wash jacket. Wash blanket. Wash cars again. wash clothes again. It never stopped. For awhile, I realized that will never stop. As my my childhood friend Mona put it, "**kicking the laundry monster**......AND STAY DOWN BITCH!!!" Maybe there will be a shot, like polio, which will eradicate the laundry monster, I don't know. My closet is still overflowing with clothes.

Folding Towels Brings Nirvana, Carpe "F*#k-ing Diem.
What I did find as I folded towels today, I felt peace. There was a sense of renewal. I mean my socks and pants had sand in them. It reminded me of the beach in San Diego. I think of the seagulls and pelicans. I remember the surfer and that photos of the ride ready to come. A time ago, I would have been upset about getting dirt on me. Now, it lets me know that I used the day.

At my family friend's wedding, my Aunt Tally had vomit on her blouse. Honestly, I smiled. Just thought how funny seeing her drooped over in a drunk stupor as Jason held her up while the valet got our car. I can still see the vomit on the sidewalk next to the valet key booth. The look at his face when he stepped on the puke--Priceless. I recall the bartender cutting her off. Memories of a blouse with vomit

I think of the blood on my sock, "Hey, I got Diabetes. Do my foot exam or I won't worry about shoes at all." Dirty clothes say we enjoyed the day. Carpe "F*$#k-ing Diem.

Washing is just daily challenge. . .daily activity saying we lived life. It says we have a life still yet to live. This is why we do it. A metaphorical rebirth. A chance to start anew. We can wash away the sins of the past and put a new you on display. We are like the Egyptians washing cloths on the rocks by the Nile River. Only there is no human sacrifices and we have washing machines and dryers.

Washing clothes is a connection to the past. And unless, we all decide to go Adam and Eve, a la commando, we will always have laundry to finish. Let me a borrow a line from the musical genius--my favorite singer and I know yours-- Vanilla Ice "Will it ever stop? Yo! I don't know" Will it ever stop . . .Yo! I hope not. Not washing would mean not living. Everyone has a dragon to slay. With orange Tide bottle in my right hand and Downy in the other, I am ready to battle this laundry monster.

Side Note: For future references, No, I will find my own personal Zen. Don't ask. Don't offer. Do your own laundry? If you have kids, take above steps to deal with this CONDITION. Any suggestions are always welcome?

What have you done for 365 Days?

December 29, 2009. Two day until this year is over. Three hundred sixty-three days has passed. What have you done for 365 Days?

31,536,000 Seconds Equals 10,512,000 Lifetimes.
One year is eight thousand, seven hundred and sixty hours. That is 525,600 minutes. 31,536,000 ticks on a clock. Assume you work 8 hours of a day six days a week for those over-achievers. This is almost 2,500 hours (2,496 hours for the anal-retentive) Now, let’s factor sleep. Ideally, eight hours of sleep per day. This is more than 2,900 hundred hoursin bed. More if you are taking Viagra or a porn star. That leaves almost 3,400 waking hours. Now I ask, What have you done for in those waking hours?

No, this is not a blog about Verizon. It’s not about your minutes used. Not, directly. My question, are you living the life you want to live? Are you going in the right directions? Did you turn left when you should have turned right? Beauty about this is that you can change. You have choices. Maybe you need a timeout. Maybe you need a course correction. One of my favorite movie lines comes from Any Given Sunday. Al Pacino say “Three seconds—That’s a lifetime.”

Red Book Needs Tape
This year I documented a year of my life. Kept all my thoughts feelings and experience in my journal. Not an easy task. My red hard-covered diary is beat up. Mangled. Sections of days are falling out. White, athletic tape holds the binding. Rubber bands keep the contents from flying away. It’s on life support. Got it wet when writing in the tub. It has blood stains when I did my blood sugar readings. Wrist bands. Racing numbers when I did my first 10k (it was supposed to be 5k. No one told me to turn back) Movie stubs. Newspaper articles. Football game tickets. Obituaries. Clipper tickets. Monthly astrological forecasts. Wedding and party invites are stapled inside. I have personal health stats stapled inside. In gold lettering, italicized it says “Days to Remember: A Journal of a Lifetime”

Kept a daily log of my BP, heart rate, blood sugar readings. Measurements of my waist, chest, hips, calves, thighs, etcetera. I have body temperature, body fat%, and BMI scores. Gained 25 lbs in May. Lost 25 lbs by December. Some things changed, others not so much. I am proud of my accomplished. Unsatisfied with others. Good or Bad—Changes I made are the ones that I made. I ask again, What Have You Done?

To-Do or Not to Do: Tasks Accomplished, Tangents Askew
Kept a “to-do” list, too. Initially it was a list of 10 most important things I wanted to get done. Eventually, it then reached up to 30 to do things. Tried to fit the entire half side of page so as not to have write so much. At times, I did not have much to say. Went a good six weeks of choosing not to write. I stopped that bad habit.

Stealing A Peak: Not So Proud, but Grateful
I kept journals and diaries in the past, but it never stuck. Not until, this year. I mean I really started journalizing a few years back. I stole a peak Diane’s journal. It lay by her bed. One time when she was in the shower, I looked in it. I was curious to see what she thought of me. I mean I was staying at her place for almost a week. I just wanted to know what her thoughts were. I lived in Boston for a time. I digress. What I remember is that her father gave her the journal. Inside he wrote, “A life worth living is one worth writing about.” Those lines stuck with me.

2009 journal I beat you up this year.It’s almost over, good friend. I will put you away. Thank you for the memories.

Since my CHF diagnosis, I made a real effort to document my life for an entire year.

Do you have a journal? Are you living a life worth writing about? How about a “To-Do” list? What does yours say? Much of my “To-do” list has mean cleaning something: Cleaning my closet, Cleaning my bed, Cleaning my car, Washing my laundry. I wonder why I put so much emphasis on cleaning. Maybe I am closet OCD. Neah!!! I figure I have other things to do, than washing and cleaning. I never get my washing done. I keeping putting it on because its never done.

Cluttered Desk Means Cluttered Mind
My old mentor Pauw would say “Cleanliness of your desk is like your mind. If it is cluttered, if it is disorganized, it is like your thinking.” Clean, everything in its place. Clarity of thought. No clarity. Lots of mess. Lots of unnecssariness. Lots of chaos. At the time, I was lost. Felt comfortable in the chaos of the situation. Always felt calm in the storm. I keep my desk clean now.

My journal is my thoughts, my dreams, my feelings. My “To do” list has become my map of my life. It signifies what is important. It signifies my accomplishments. It signifies my intentions. My health stats are my body’s message to me. It’s my documentation of me. Now I ask, Are You Happy With What Have You Done?

My 2010 Resolution: Beat Up My 2010 Journal