Pressure

I need peer pressure in my life. With no peers, I don't care what I wear, what my house looks like (after awhile), what I am eating. Yes, I do care to an extent, and I keep on track for the most part, but the extra information that someone is watching me, is helpful. Maybe that is why I blog. It's definitely why I am on Facebook.
I've been reading a few different books for a few years. Though I am taking my time and haven't finished a one, they have been contributing to my growth and development-- the slow pushing me out of my bad habits. One is The Creative Habit by Twila Tharp. Thanks to reading that book, I've got a space now to work in, one that actually does promote creativity and accomplishment. Another would be Overcoming Underearning, by Barbara Sanny. A third is How to Be a Grown Up, by Stacy Kaiser. Of course, the Bible is a staple.
I'm taking the time to prepare a couple entries for an art show. I've wanted to enter it for years, and am never ready. Tonight is the last chance to enter, and I have to have the stuff up there by 7-8. It's also Desi's birthday, Dakota's award night and Dustin's tennis match. I don't have a gift (though she got some earlier) or a cake yet. I figure we have to have cake after Scouts? I need a shower. I'm nervous.
I'm too picky, maybe. I was educated to have certain standards-- what kind of tape, frame, glass, etc. and am tempted to talk myself out of it because it is not perfect. But it is just an entry. Doing that much is a big deal, whether I make it or not. I need the pressure.

Driving Hope

Today I woke up from a dream in which I was driving a pretty big jalopy. It might have been a Rolls Royce without a top. It was cream-colored and I don't think I enjoyed it and I know I had one passenger, trying to direct me. I came down a fork in a road, rather than approaching one, and chickened-out when it came to merging. I instead stopped in front of a sign with the intention of letting others pass on my left while I figured out which way I was going (though I had no choice anyhow). The sign turned into another vehicle, which I crunched into and the traffic which could have passed me pushed me along instead. We were in Cleveland, on a bridge, with many levels of ramps and buildings all around. We got into traffic at last and then I woke up.
Last Tuesday we drove down to Athens and had a very nice visit with friends in their new, simplified house. I've known these friends since we were all 18, and love them dearly. I left them with quilts passed on to me from another of our Athens friends. Then we all got back into our cars on Wednesday morning and made our way through West Virginia, Virginia and Tennessee, ending in Gatlinburg. The hills were steep and I am glad the car made it through all that. That same route was the scene of a 75-car pileup a few days later, due to incredibly thick fog.
Destiny was sick the whole time, with a cold. The indoor pool was not worth the extra effort and cost; it was too small and crowded. Gatlinburg is really kind of overrun and worn. Too many people. It was fun to watch the kids' reaction to the very wacky sights in Sevierville and Pigeon Forge, but I would rather focus on the national park and the crafters. The hype and commercialism is so over-the-top, but I think it's fun to have the kids see stuff like that at least once. By the time we drove  home, we were pretty tired, my hips were sore and I had picked up Desi's cold. Gene had to do most of the driving and it was a long day. Everyone was happy to sleep in their own bed again. Easter was the next day and I missed the service from the cold and slept all day. Kind of a bummer, it being my favorite holiday.

Yes, of course that's the Titanic.
I slept a lot, trying to rid myself of the cold since Gene was scheduled for surgery on Wednesday. Gene Jr. came up from Columbus and took him and sat with him since I was too germy. I missed the whole thing and stayed in bed.
Meanwhile, my friends had to meet people to see if there is any chance of keeping their newly adopted daughter.
Another friend had chest pains, back pain, a blod clot, cancer and then died at 67-- all in a matter of days.
Another friend was about to go leave and golf with a buddy, who died of a cardiac arrest. Then he himself fell and broke several ribs.
Another friend fell and broke her shoulder. Another went to hospital for possible pneumonia. Another one was still in hospital for other things. Another got a knee replacement, right after her step dad got total hip replacement. And then Bob died before we left and his service was today.
At least little Andrew, 4 BEAT HODGKINS LYMPHOMA this week. Thank God.
And my husband did really well in surgery.
And Dakota did NOT have lice, as a hairdresser assumed, seeing his scratches dues to his eczema. I spent all day cleaning, combing, buying stuff to clean and comb, and NOTHING. She was wrong.
I got a new vacuum out of it.
It's nice to be home and nice to have Gene home. Time to buy charcoal, clean out gardens, have some hope. It could be worse.

Confessions

Forgive me, for I don't feel my age.
Forgive me for overeating.
Forgive me for not being a disciplined person.
Forgive me for not looking good, or many times, not trying to.
Forgive me for not paying my bills on time.
Forgive me for not having kids.
Forgive me for not acting my age.
Forgive me for being messy.
Forgive me for being lazy.
Forgive me for not putting things back where they belong.
Forgive me for yelling.
Forgive me for wasting time.
...for trying to do too much.
...for not prioritizing correctly.
...for having too much stuff.
...for eating wrong.
...for not planning.
...for my dirty car.
...for being nervous.
...for being loud.
...for being silly.
...for not facing the facts.
...for being overweight and unhealthy.
...for not working in a cubicle.
...for loving change.
...for loving travel.
...for loving the man I love.
...for raising other people's kids.
...for making art.
...for singing in the rain.
...for liking calendars and clocks.
...for making lists.
...for forgetting.
...for not being athletic.
...for my many depressions.
...for not having you over more often.
...for not paying you back.
...for not spending more time with you.
...for not being honest with myself.
...for not believing in myself.
...for not being good in math.
...for reruns.
...for not cooking more interesting meals.
...for not pulling weeds.
...for not ironing.
...for not having a good lawn.
...for the junk in the back yard.
...for not liking to answer the phone all the time.
...for taking on too much.

So, here we are again, with a fresh start before us. It's actually before us every day, but a new year seems fresher, perhaps because our options are fewer, with gardens in dormancy. It's all basement studio, organizing, taxes, exercise and such, until I lose the memory of my goals. Things always seem to get better, but they don't seem to change much. They really do, but we don't feel it. I have new things to read, new friends to call and develop relationships with intentionally, old habits to re instill, since they worked so well the first time, more space, closed doors, maturing children, limits, snow, birds, family, escapes, vitamins, and things to read and write. Doing something outside the norm is usually good, too. Leaving behind lists that never change would be smart. People and relationships need to be up-front, though, because even if all your ducks are in a row, relationships are the pretty blue pond they need to swim in.
Speaking of, I am spurred to write today while I am working in my new studio because I am thinking about a couple of relationships and about forgiveness and letting things go. We had a party last night, and several old friends came, as well as some new ones. It was refreshing and encouraging. Some people you can talk to sporadically and pick up where you left off. Love is there, trust is there, stories are there. Others you can see often, but never get to know. Relationship takes work, commitment, work, desire, trust, some silliness, and forgiveness. They are two-sided and are only as healthy as the individuals involved. And sometimes people don't want to be friends-- they are afraid, and seem to have their little pond filled. I can only hope and pray and try to be healthy in my thinking and actions toward them, rather than change to fit in.

Well said.

http://youtu.be/YpQHGPGejKs

One Day I Will Make It

When I was in line at Marc's tonight, picking up some groceries right before they closed, a nice woman told me my tag was sticking out. I thanked her and fixed it, but I thought to myself that it just goes with my look. I had shopped for shoes and a new bag at Marshall's with my birthday gift from my brother, and I saw myself in the mirror. I am giant. I am now 100 lbs overweight. My hair is frumpy, my clothes are just there, and it feels ridiculous to shop. I remember being younger and actually caring about what I wore, and shopping for great outfits, finding matching jewelry, shoes, all that. Now, who is going to see me? Where would I wear it? I can find answers to that, or create them, and maybe I would come up with more places to show up if I had cool clothes. But when you are so heavy, you don't look good, NO MATTER WHAT. And you don't feel good, either. I am so uncomfortable sitting, sleeping, walking, driving.
So, I start to do something about it. I usually start with walking or cycling so I don't totally blow myself away set myself up to fail. Then I build up and do okay. Then I have no idea what happens, because I usually am all done in 2 weeks or less. I often get sick within 3 or 4 days. For instance, I worked pretty hard on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Today and yesterday I was really creaking. Yesterday I felt weak, exhausted and sick. Today was much better, but all my joints are sore and I have a sore throat. I don't mind muscle pain, but joints are a bummer. I don't want bursitis, since it lasts so long. 
In any case, I did buy the correct foods and plan to go to the gym tomorrow, or do anything-- tapes, walking, etc.

One way to get some of those pretty colors

Obviously, I need to write a gratitude list

I am not in the mood to be around anyone. I am sick of being fat, sick of not doing what I want, sick of my past constantly getting in the way of my today, and generally discouraged that I seem to be in the same place for so long. I felt like journal-ling about it, and then found out my husband just deleted my journal because he thought he was closing it.
I'm tired of not having carpeting in the kids' rooms or stairway and it looking like a slum. Tired of not having kitchen cabinets and of the floor, which is ripped up since it was installed in 1976. Tired of my dirty van, of not finishing things, not having friends, not having fun, feeling guilty, feeling like I will never move on, feeling alone.
Sad that I never had my own kids, that I still have not been to Europe, that my kids have not seen the ocean, that I can't go on a FLIPPING VACATION, that my kids are hooked on electronics, that our bills are not paid in so many categories and I have no idea how they will be.

Too much

I had a friend in college that let herself feel too much about what she took in. She lost her mind for a period of time and had to be committed. I am very careful how much I let in. If there are too many sad things, or too big or too much of a sad thing, I can't take much more in one day. Last year it was the earthquake and tsunami in Japan. This year it is something else.

Money, power, pink, red

Planned Parenthood has won this one. They spent a lot of money, and they'll make a lot of money. And they'll do so off the shredded corpses of children and the raped consciences of women. If Jesus' kingdom were of this world, we'd be fundraising to keep up with them.

But what we have is greater than that. We have a word that tells a pregnant young woman that we believe her Down Syndrome baby is a gift, not a health care burden. And we can offer the kind of gospel that cleanses the conscience and offers what outlasts money and power: life and that to the uttermost.

Let's work to legally protect women and children. And let's grieve that old Mammon has won the day, again. But let's not grieve like the pagans who have no hope. When it comes to the struggle for life, the color of victory isn't pink like a ribbon. It's red like a cross.

-- Russell D. Moore

No Duh

Being on the internet is bad for me because I feel compelled to process much of what is presented to me, much in the same way I felt obliged to read each article written in the daily paper when I was a kid. It took me awhile to discover adults rarely "read" the paper, let alone each article. This is why it is actually a bad idea for me to have a magazine subscription, brochures, newspapers, or anything that might require consumption. I probably ought to stare at a photo of a library every day to see that I am not God.
I really have to take on a "don't care" attitude if I want to get through checking Facebook. The only things I really care about are my comments to friends and their comments and posts back to me or our general group of friends. Most of the time.

too much indigo

I make myself laugh. My favorite color is indigo, favorite planet is Saturn, favorite number is 6, have been using camphor and eucalyptus on my sinuses, just downloaded 2 night sky apps in the last week and posted clouds as my big photo on my home page. Which of my chakras is overactive? Oh dear.

When the 6th Chakra is over-active or stuck open, confusion and mental fogginess often ensues. In modern times, many of us experience information overload on a continual basis. The onslaught of twenty-four hour news services, millions of websites, screaming cell phones and pagers, and the demands of job and home are enough to cause us existential headaches, never mind actual migraines! --Janet Boyer

What a day

I am really having to fight today. I feel like a failure about to fall off the end of the world. I am in the basement, on and off this computer, but still, again, working on clearing this place out. It seems like that is all I do, is purge. How can that be? If that is all I do, how come it never goes away? Well, it does get better and clears out. But I just want to get it to a "finished" state, where I am not completely surrounded by junk and boxes of Things Unfinished. After cleaning out the Things Unfinished, Things Not Paid For, Things Completely Ignored side, the Office, then I go to the other side of the room, my studio, which seems to be a monumental tribute to Lost Potential, Missed Opportunities and When You Used to Have a Life. Gee, I can hardly wait to dig in.
But the End of The World part is not the mess and all those Shame Departments, it's my Very Late Mortgage. There are lots of reasons, a few reasonable and many not. I don't want to move, don't want to lose my house, don't want to have more regret. But for now, I am sad.

Just a Tuesday Night

Crabby me.
We had the Jr. High Football Banquet tonight. I guess as those things go, we were told it was one of the best. The moms involved put it together. I was not involved as they seemed to get together on their own and did not get the word out until they needed money for the banquet. I never did see a roster of the players, even tho we ask every year. On the sidelines, just like Dustin. Regardless, he had a great time. It was nice to see all the guys sitting together, having fun. They had a good season. Trophies and certificates were given, speeches delivered on scholastics, pizza and pasta and cake served, all while the R&B was playing almost too loud for visiting. I was frustrated, as we got home way after bedtime and I hate it when you can't visit who you are seated with.
Then we cannot get to the tv fast enough, can we? I wish we would just come home and skip the tv and put on the music. And talk. I know if I requested it we could, but if only it was natural. So, I don't WANT to see NCIS and I come into the kitchen to be on the laptop.
I cleaned up and purged throughout the house. Now that it is my turn to get to the studio, I am back to working outside the house. For good reason, too, as we are late on the payments again. It is nerve-wracking. I am praying a lot.

Waking thoughts

Sunday, Oct. 23, 2011
5:45 am

I've been up since 5. I used my CPAP last night, so I feel pretty good. It is dark out, and there is a big, bright star to my left as I type on the kitchen table. Kitty is on a chair to my right. I am toasting a freezer waffle since my tummy feels funny and I am not so sure what to eat. As usual, I am all in touch with details of settings and details themselves. Not sure why, but I guess I think my journals will be read and this is part of what I am like. Why that matters, I don't know, in the big scheme of things.

Which is why I am up writing. I was lying in bed thinking about how much of my life I spend so unsatisfied, most of it because of my own lack of discipline, foggy thinking, and/or unrealistic expectations. I've been told before that I set my bar too high and will never be happy because I am waiting for things to be in order, but not able to put them there consistently. What would happen if this were to occur? The words in the question are revealing because this stuff does not just occur, you have to make it happen. So being healthy, having the books balanced, living simply, traveling, using gifts and all that do not just happen. Besides that, I am old enough to know that life is about relationship, and relationship to things and habits are not what I want. I have a bad cycle of not contributing to my own personal goals.

Most difficult: relationship to my body
Most on the edge: relationship to money
Most distant: relationship to goals
Most consistent: relationship to surroundings
Most controlling: relationship to unfinished business, guilt and shame
Most satisfying: relationship to people who seem to love me more than I love myself
Most fulfilling: relationship to God
Most frustrating: relationship to order
Most puzzling: relationship to whatever success might mean to me that day

Clearing my Dresser

Wow, my whole blog can be about housecleaning sometimes.
I am tired since I missed my thyroid pill 2 days in a row. I ran out and it was one of those times that you needed doc approval. I can probably get them tomorrow. Also tired from a dumb workout by a guy born after I got out of college. Muscle aches I do not mind, but he overworked my hip and I could hardly walk today. Whatever.
So, I am finally getting to my own room. The last few days have been my big fall push to purge. I cleaned out the boys' room, the hallway, the landing and generally the cubby hole and stairway. Then I closed up the sun room and finished cleaning up GJ's room. I am using that for my cookbooks now, half of which I moved out of the sun room so I can access them during the winter. I am still determined to come up with some new and healthy recipes and plan on making my kids eat their veggies like a good mom does. I also have the wee tv in there for old videos. Dustin will move the bed upstairs, we will toss the box spring and donate the frame. Desi will swap dressers when I do her room while she is at school one day. The kitchen will wait. It is nasty. The basement is dismal. We all have laundry. When will I go back to work? I have been rushing to get this completed since I really don't have time for this luxury. It really does clear my head, though, to purge so much. I gave at least three bags of books to my sister. I even purged the cookbooks. There are plenty of kids clothes waiting to be bagged and donated and the trunk is already full.
So, Gene is leading out in Ashtabula county and I am trying to sort clothing and put away the spring summer stuff and move things into GJ's closet so I have more room. Isabel gave me 4 giant bags of clothes and I have a lot to move around. NICE clothes that I really need. I took a moment to come in here and take a break. It is almost 10:30 pm. I must be nuts, but my room has been trashed for awhile. I am actually unearthing things on my dresser that have been there since I went to Maine a month ago. Just crazy. I am tired.

Back to My Studio, But first, about that last cubicle job...

Today I had to take my car in for new wheel bearings, so I worked from home. Normally, I would get sucked into checking out the kids' rooms, something I do every 3-4 months, even though people assume I do it all the time. I really don't. I ignored dishes and my own bedroom, as well as the living room straightening and any office stuff, and went directly to my studio.

It's been several months since I spent any productive time there. I think the last time was May 13th. I only know because I have a dial calendar that stays on the last date I set, and I always set it so I can see when the last visit was. I started out journaling, which got dropped in mid-May for some reason. Maybe because the kids were off school. In any case, I tried to make the best of my late-January home life, buried in the snow with the rest of Cleveland.

I started out this year in an office job 28 miles away. Anyone who talked to me during that time knows the mileage, because I moaned and groaned about it every time I referred to the job. I worked for a good company with good people. But it was a horrible fit. It was a production job, and I am not a production artist or person or anything. Production is not something I can do, no matter how hard I try. I am productive, but not a production person by any stretch of the imagination. I was not as fast as the person I worked with and felt paranoid and inadequate. On top of that (and the dreadful ride), I absolutely hated the product, which was the ugliest catalog you ever laid eyes on, Dr. Leonard's. We had to lay out scores of products that might (or might not) appeal to the elderly, like incontinence products, wart cream, fat rings, toilet raisers, shower seats, age spot lotions, slippers, support hose and my personal favorite (yech), toe fungus ointment. Of course there were photos. Everyone was so different. I got to sit by Martha, who had a dry sense of humor and a Schultz collection. She kept to herself and was very efficient, responsible and bored. She quit right after I did. There was Patti, who was there the longest, was one of the smokers, still dressed up in skirts from time to time and worked like a dog. She sat next to John, a transplant from the south who was great at football, had 2 adorable daughters and a gorgeous wife. He was very fun to listen to and had some opinions and timing. There was Tony, who never left the building and could set anyone at ease. Jerry was so cool, looked good all the time and was very East Coast. The photo department was all that a photo department is, fun, funny and cool. Laurel was a belly dancer and wrote copy, Margaret wrote copy, rode motorcycles and was a good cook. As I inch closer to my own cubicle, I cannot remember some of the people. Oh yeah, there was Chris, who was perfect and fast and liked sports and beer. He was quiet and kind to me, even if I made his life miserable. Mark was an adorable ex-stripper who was amazing on cars and was very good at the catalog work even though he just learned it. There was Jerod, who kept out of everything and was funny also. Dependable. The guy next to him was my boss, Amy's little brother. They finished each other's lines. Also extremely dependable. Amy gave me every chance in the world to make it, but it was for nothing. She was kind enough to hire me and probably sorry in the end that she had. She was convinced that I was on the internet all day, even if I was not. The thing that convinced her was a giant, bigger-than-a-phone-book stack of printouts that said where I was on the internet. Now this place did allow you to check your email at lunch, something I was even afraid to do at first. But I noticed even the "best kids" did, so I gave myself my 20 minutes.
When they first hired me, they figured I would have work to do within the first 2 weeks. I got all set up and found out there was a delay. I needed the money, so though I had very little to do, I was glad to be there. The weather was still good, the pay was good, the people were fine, so I was happy. I learned what I could of what was coming, though no one could give me a clue of how to do it exactly, because THEY did not know-- it was going to be an import that we had to remodel. I learned a bit more of the system and then started to help Tony and Martha and whomever needed help, and I did okay. At some points, I even turned things around much faster than they expected. I was thrilled that I could do this work, finally. Things dried up and Georgenne, the Big Boss, who looked like a double of my husband's ex-wife (not that she is bad-looking, but Memories...), told me to go ahead and look at my catalog online and get used to the products and websites. I did that. I also looked up things on the version of Quark I was going to be using and whatever else I could think of to be productive. This meant, I was ON the internet. This went into my big book of printouts.

This went on for some time. I was hired the last days of August and the work did not come in until late October. As soon as it came in, the place went NUTS trying to get the book out, which was bigger with a shorter deadline than the other books. The work was distributed and I was left in the dust. I geared up for the next round, but it was always a waiting game, and then BOOM. It was all new to me-- I had never laid out a catalog in MY LIFE, let alone this one. Even Martha said she would not have been able to keep up with that pace. And there was no way I was going to, that is for sure.

I pretty much RAN out of there. I was so happy to be let go, even though I felt bad that I was always going to have the reputation for being on the internet. Oh, also-- I use Google home page. That means I had several boxes with several websites listed on my homepage. Not only that, but I had several tabs. Each tab held even more sites. Each time I logged on, all 50 of those web addresses came up on that Phone Book, along with all their cookies. I know because I looked at it. The more I tried to be productive while everyone else was talking in the aisle while waiting for pages to come in-- the more mistakes I made in cover wraps, layouts and details. I STUNK at the job, no matter what I tried to do.

I still get nervous and relive the nightmare just by driving the 271-480-71 route, either way. I need healing.

Sunday Night

I worked at my mom's after church. The kids could have come, but they seemed to want to just sit and watch tv and not eat lunch. I got a lot done for work. Then we watched Mystery Theater or whatever it's called. Lots of guessing for a dumb ending. Left when it was drizzling, came home in pouring rain to a door closed and locked, no light. They thought it was open and were sorry. I get inside, all windows open, all lights on. Grrrr. Seems like only MOMS notice if rain is pouring in windows. Dustin is asleep and the rest are watching Dogs & Cats TWO. I refused to watch ONE. I am in the beach back porch and listening to Doc Watson and the rain coming down. Kitty is on the ledge, hanging out with me. And yes, looking at my laptop, seeing what is up with the newlyweds and such. Snacked on a nice, juicy pear. I love summer. Tomorrow it will get cooler, but I will like that, too.

Why Journal?

All my journals say the same thing, over and over.
I have lots of books, but even more magazines. I don't read them because I need to respond to what I read or I have a mental overload. But while I have my moments of clarity, I think I will read all this stuff.
You ought to see all the great cookbooks I have, and I hardly cook. I prepare food, but that is about it. I WANT to cook and make cool and healthy things to eat, but I don't.
What I DO do, is arrange,
organize,
sort,
purge,
set up,
clean,
photograph,
share,
teach,
occasionally inspire,
motivate,
encourage,
improve,
want.
I want to work out, but I don't.
I have a hard time thinking clearly.
I hate my clothes, most of them,  mostly because they don't reflect my taste. I am bothered on a daily basis that I am overweight as much as I am, but I don't take action.
I am very busy doing nothing important, until I am under pressure. Then, don't bother me. I will be busy doing unimportant things for quite awhile, and then I have very little time left to do what is important, so I am under pressure. I end up generally pleased with what I did under pressure, so I think I can do that at any time.
Then I don't. All this brings a pile of shame and discouragement after awhile, and I feel stupid. I seriously wonder who I am and what I am about anymore, but that is not a bad thing. I figure it helps us to get to those painful points now and then, because if we are sick enough of ourselves, we change. I just wish I would change faster.

Gotta go now.

A Week Later

So, what have I done today?
1. Drove the 2 oldest to school. They have been up and ready by 6:45 every day so far (that's 3 days), even if they fight brushing their teeth in the morning.
2. Took Dakota to Mom's for a shower. Our gas has been off for a week, so no hot water at home.
3. Stopped and bought Dakota 2 binders at Discount Drug Mart, which has the best price on binders.
4. Went home and had coffee and honeydew with Gene. Discussed our day, our weekend, our need to discuss money, our need to stay positive. He made the bed and the coffee while I was gone.
5. Moved the rusting bikes with flat tires out of their current positions in the driveway, pulling the bindweed as they moved. Moved the giant blue tarp that has been laying there in the front of the garage (the garage, not the garage door; that is permanently up in the ceiling for 7 years now) since mid-July as a backdrop to the screaming yellow SLEDS which have been there also. Looked at weeds. Felt overwhelmed. Went inside.
5. Noticed the dishes, which are not easy to miss, since they are all on the counter and in the sink. It's not as fun to do dishes when you don't have hot water. Felt blech.
6. Moved into the back porch with the laptop. It is the nicest and least distracting of my rooms. The cat joined me, sleeping in the rocking chair.
Then I tried to think of what it was I was supposed to be doing. That's taken me all day to get clear. I had to find a phone number, and figured it might be in the spare room, so I cleaned that up. Not there. Now it is probably too late to call. Did some marketing work, slide work, stuff like that. I am going to have to work all night to make up for what I did not accomplish. That is okay, as long as I get it done. Gene is at the golf course anyhow, since I had to wait for the kids to come home. Des got lost and I had to go get her. Dustin is still at football. He will likely go to Jack's. Des has one hour on the computer. Kota instantly wants to get on a Game Boy (an older game we had around). So, it is quiet.

I need a shower.