Priceless

This is my favorite picture from the ND v Stanford game. After sitting/standing/running in the pouring rain for upwards of 5 hours, I love this shot of the band director stretched out in a triumphant director-pose, orchestrating the thunderous sounds of the Notre Dame band while the students stormed the field. I stormed the field once, my freshman year, and it brought back all those memories.

The rain (oh, the rain) came down harder and harder as the microseconds ticked by. Rivers of water flushed down the stairs, further saturating our socks and shoes.

But it was utterly, completely worth it. A huge win in overtime...

Rain Poncho...$.88.

Hiking boots...$60.

Hand warmers...$1.50.

Hot Chocolate in ND stadium...$3.00.

An overtime Notre Dame win in 3 inches of rain with friends?

You got it...............

Another Saturday Night in the Chi

I sat down this late afternoon, on a lazy, sunny, chilly Sunday to write a paper I have due on Friday at midnight. Instead, I started a pot of chili, allowed myself a bit of daydreaming as I glanced out on the late afternoon sun filtering through the nearly-bare trees of autumn. While it might have been 80 degrees on Thursday, it is decidedly fall now. I drug out all my ceramic pumpkins, fall-scented candles, favorite incense for chilly evenings, and harvest-themed centerpieces.

The pace at which fall is flying by is unsettling. It forces me to slow down and enjoy these last few nice days. Heck, it won't be long before it's dark at 4pm and weeks go by between glimpses of the sun!

So while I do have a paper due, the procrastination is welcome. This Church history class is kicking my butt and my overachieving classmates keep upping the bar- arguing things like the philosophy behind the Crusades, the origins of Canon Law, and questions like, "what are antipopes anyway and who decides they're anti?"

Us theologians are cool. Did you have any doubt?

On a difficult Thursday, I came home to a stuffed mailbox. Thinking I ordered things in my sleep again, I discovered this awesome, surprise gift from none other than Nurse Starbucks:

It's a take on "Geology Rocks" from Friends. And it's pink! A public thanks to Nurse Starbucks for making a theologist's dreams come true!

In other news, Jack and I attended our first ND home game at Soldier Field yesterday. It was an amazing experience and that defied the 47 degree temps. We barely noticed we were cold; the atmosphere was electric.

We splurged on a tailgate pass and this was our view from the South Lot.

Walking around a bit to find former classmates and others from SB, we returned to find that a full-blown tailgate arose right behind our car, in "our" space. Turns out they were all firefighters and yacht club members from Long Beach, CA and they had graduated from ND in the 90's. We welcomed them to our 'gate and in true tailgate fashion, we shared our beer with new pals.

This guy offered to teach Jack how to sail. More comical was that, when we went into the stadium, we saw our impromptu tailgating crew literally across the aisle from us. In a sea of 60,000 people, what are the odds?!

We then went into the stadium to find that our supremely good seats were, well, supreme. Our Irish did us proud!

The halftime show was wonderful. The band did their usual ND:

Then the band Chicago took the stage with the ND band playing back-up!

What's better than Chicago in Chicago at a ND game?

So we'll go into this long, busy workweek tired from a tremendous weekend, fulfilled by terrific experiences, and grateful for the opportunities afforded us.

Opportunities like writing papers on the doctrinal developments from the Ecumenical Councils! Wish me luck!

Kool and the Gang

Sometimes you have to stop and celebrate.

I’m not very good at stopping to celebrate my successes. I usually just finish one project, inititative, department, etc. and plow on to the next one.

And lately, I’ve wanted to act on my long-held fantasy of driving to Midway airport and hopping on the first plane going anywhere decent (knowing my luck, that first flight out would be to Detroit. Or maybe Tulsa. So I would hold out for Bahamas, Miami, Vegas, or even Maine. I hear Maine lobster is worth the flight). The stress at work has been just terrible (and that IS being optimistic) and I’m not quite sure how I continued putting one foot in front of the other.

However, everything seems to have changed dramatically in the last few days. Maybe my brain chemicals were shaken up and corrected. Or maybe I finally realized that I get to celebrate a few things.

• I won another employee lawsuit!
• I am (knocking on wood) still undefeated!
• I spent probably 20 hours in the Finance department with the Number Gurus and they helped me finagle my budgets to meet hospital goals.
• I owe said Finance people filet mignon, lobster, and caviar.
• Too bad that stuff isn’t in the budget!
• I successfully completed my budgets, had them approved, AND met hospital targets of 10% decreases in expenses and staffing!
• I cut said budgets WITHOUT impacting patient care, quality, or outcomes!
• I went around the system and hired an emergency preparedness manager!
• And my security badge still works!
• I helped hire a new nursing manager for our large Telemetry unit!
• I wrote my first academic review on an ethics book!
• Three of five Lean projects are complete!
• My CEO actually called me to thank me for my hours, dedication, and success!
• When asked by the new VPMA for a status update on our accreditation survey (and I gave it to him), he told me that he “had no doubt about our readiness” the moment I took over the project.
• THAT actually affected me deeply and just now realized how much I respect him.
• For the first time in seven weeks, I did not have a supreme sense of impending doom when considering our upcoming accreditation survey!
• For the first time in months (years?), I do not have a supreme sense of impending doom when I think about my job and all that is expected of me!
• I feel like I survived a tsunami.

It has been so HARD these last few months. I was in a perpetual state of exhaustion and while I hate the expression, if I had a dollar for every time someone said, “you look tired,” well, I wouldn’t have to work anymore this year. And I do look tired. My massage therapist actually tried to sell me some tea tree oil (?) to help alleviate the black circles and puffiness.

Hey, at least I don’t look 24 anymore. I think I easily pass for 27 now.

And I'm finding ways to insert more humor. Ted took over for me today:

So the whole “living for the weekend” thing is tough…we work our tails off all week in a crazy grind and decided that we are GOING to enjoy our weekends.

Jack and I attended the annual hospital gala at the end of September. I lollygagged until 3pm when I finally decided to shower, throw on a ball gown, and head downtown. I was glad I did because that’s some of the best hobnobbing one can get. Plus, surf and turf and unlimited Chardonnay is never a bad deal.

This past weekend, I channeled my DIY, nesting tendencies and spent WAY too much money at Lowe’s. I could not stand “contractor brass” for one more week. Filling up 2 shopping carts, we sought to replace all the light fixtures, hardware, and faucets in one swoop. I even painted my bathroom a nice, warm candlelight color (which does NOT look dingy, despite my initial fears). I learned a few things while painting on Monday and Tuesday:

1. I get vertigo when balancing on a ladder, trying to reach the corners of 11 foot ceilings.
2. Singing U2’s “Vertigo” does not really help.
3. I totally have a fleet (flock?) of guardian angels as I almost fell off the ladder four times (paint sloshing precariously around my pan).
4. That all this DIY leaves me so sore I felt I was in a car crash!

Otherwise, we tend to measure our weeks by the Notre Dame football schedule. This week? Soldier Field (as it is forecast right now, in the freezing cold rain). Next week? Hopefully a “PR day” as we take our good friends to their first ND home game- Stanford. Yoshi is in town for the game and we’ll have approximately 7 tailgates to visit. I cannot wait. Screaming at the Notre Dame running backs just isn’t as fun in my living room as it is at the game.

So, for now, I will work hard, celebrate what I can, and live the HECK out of the weekends.

Maybe Next Year. . .

Because I finished my leadership certification "thingy" for work before my laptop died, I have relished this nice break from using a computer in the evenings. I daresay, it has been a refreshing change of pace and I have been staying at work later to make sure things are ready to go for the next day. Then I go home and do nothing. Granted, it's 8:00 p.m., but you have to start somewhere!

A lot has been going on. It's nearing the end of third quarter, so I had several managerial evaluations to do. It's funny- even though they are time intensive, I love doing evaluations and am trying to get all my managers to regularly evaluate their staff. How frustrating is it to not know where you stand with your boss? I want each and every person to know how awesome (or how not-awesome) they are with firm steps to improve. A little OCD? Sure! But people always know where they stand and what they need to do to attain excellence.

Another managerial trick I picked up lately is to document, just once per week, why I got out of bed. In discerning job transitions, my ACHE mentor encouraged me to understand my motivations and fears. The best and easiest way to do this is to ask yourself, "why did I get out of bed?" Then, on the flip-side, ask yourself "what makes me want to jump back in bed and hide under the covers?" It's amazing to see what my journal has uncovered...you learn that, some days, you do your job for other people. Sometimes you get up to manage perceptions that you are a dedicated worker. Some days (hopefully this is the majority!), you get out of bed to help people, push them on their journey, or to attack some well-known problem in the hospital. I actually do leap out of bed some days, knowing that I am, in some way, shape or form, making a difference.

Other days? I'm not immune to wanting to hide under the covers. Lack of uniform accountability, cultural inertia, or frustration with too many things on my plate that are due too soon. It's one thing when you FEEL too busy and it's another when you actually ARE too busy. Have you ever had one of those days where you work like a fiend and your to-do list only gets longer? Yeah...me neither!

So while things are still busy and probably always will be, I am taking a closer look at my managerial prowess. I was interviewing a candidate for a managerial position open at the hospital and was actually taken aback by one of the stellar candidates (who is actually getting the job). She mentioned a couple of very good accountability-building ideas and I actually felt subpar. I saw another opportunity for how I can manage and mentor my folks a little better. That was a first for me...usually I am the one trying to unhinge candidates with difficult behavioral-based questions and it was weird to feel challenged by a candidate. It was nice. And when she starts in her position, I will be trying to learn more from her!

In other news, there is NO news on our roof. Our lawsuit is on hold and hopefully our homeowners' association will cooperate and just replace the roof without complaint. I'm not holding my breath on that, though.

And with that, fall seems to have arrived. The past few days have been breezy and chilly and we unearthed the thick duvet for our bed. A few leaves have fallen. College football has returned. Notre Dame football is still, well, Notre Dame football. I'm starting to feel like a Cubs fan when I repeatedly say, "Maybe next year."

Irish Chi Sox

I'm actually relishing the rainy, cloudy day this Saturday afternoon. Rainy days give me permission to relax and lounge in bed (after I've done a few hours of work and gone running!). Nonetheless, today's rainy, crusty fall day encouraged Jack to whip up a simmering pot of chili and allowed me to nap during the slow points of the college football games.

This week is finally over and I couldn't be happier. The stress beat me down and by the end of the week, I dreaded looking into the mirror to see my own blood-shot eyes and under-eye bags staring me back in my reflection. All vanity aside, that's just not pretty!

Last night, we went to a ChiSox game with two of Jack's friends and while it was great, the Sox lost (actually, they got pulverized). I still take it for granted that we live 20 minutes from The Cell and that going to games is within our realm of possibilities. I just wish the Cubs OR Sox would do something fabulous...we have two teams here and both seem to tank at the end of the season!

At least it was "Halfway to St. Patty's Day" at The Cell. The Sox wear green, U2 and other Irish bands infiltrate the airwaves, and a group of Irish, kilt-wearing singers sung the National Anthem.

Oh, and there's green beer. Let's not forget about the green beer.

Even those that "Irish" team lost last night, let's hope a certain other Irish team can win against Michigan State tonight!

Quick Takes Vol. 5

For those of you who forget what "Quick Takes" are, it's a web phenomenon started in the blogosphere to quickly and succinctly tell your readers seven things you did this week. Except that I'm rarely quick...or succinct!

Details, details!

1.) You know how some people work for the weekends? Well, I do, too. But it's not for the reasons you probably think. I still work most weekends (that's when the real work is done!) but what I truly love is the ability to sleep in past 6 a.m. and watch NOTRE DAME FOOTBALL. Tomorrow, we're taking on Michigan and even though we will not be in SB for the big day, we will be tailgating in Chicagoland. Because that's what ND fans do.

2.) Since I'm now officially back in grad school, homework must again be fit into my waking hours. I think I will revert back into my former grad school study habits...every Saturday morning from 9-12p.m. is automatically dedicated to study time. Homework may span into the afternoon times if not completed by the noon hour. What's even more funny is that I received my first assignment, eleven essay questions about the Ethical and Religious Directives (due Monday), before I even received my formal acceptance letter. That's a good sign...right? Cue the Diet Mountain Dew! With the ND game tomorrow, this starts next weekend. :)

3.) I survived budget season! I helped my managers prepare their individual department budgets, twelve in total, because several departments span between two hospital campuses. As the Director, I had to play both sides of the table when it was time to defend the budgets against Senior Leadership's attacks. They were vehement on several, demanding to see true contribution margins for the service lines. I can run this on a high level, but had to engage the services of my friendly neighborhood cost accountant to supply the nitty-gritty details.

4.) 1800 Contacts (we deliver...you save) is a wonderful company. In a total air-head maneuver, I re-ordered my contacts online and forgot to update my address. So they shipped to my old house. Remembering this when the contacts didn't show up at my new house, I ripped off a quick email to 1800 Contacts asking them what they could do about it. I received a seemingly heartfelt email in return, explaining that they were reshipping my order and including return labels just in case my original order turns up. And if I wouldn't mind, would I consider returning the extra box? It was so refreshing. After having to call AT&T and converse with an Indian gentleman who knew about eight English words apart from the customer service script and having an awful time trying to secure our Bon Jovi tickets from Stubhub, 1800 Contacts has my business forever. In fact, tell everyone you know. They rival Southwest Airlines for best service (in my book).

5.) Speaking of Southwest airlines, I have a strange ethical dilemma going on in my head. The Muppet system is sending me for my ethics degree. I realize this is a substantial cost savings for me, as my tuition was paid for by one of the head-honcho Sisters. I'm so very grateful for this; I've been wanting to resume work on this degree for ages. Yet, I have to fly to Philly and Phoenix for intensive case studies...do I have to pay for that? Or since Corporate is sending me, does that mean they pay for it? See, being an ethicist means you over think anything involving a choice that may include any hint of gray area.

6.) I love the fact that it's 70 outside with the nightime temps falling to 50. But the sinus headaches that come from air-conditioned-sinuses-that-are-no-longer-air-conditioned really stink.

7.) I have to help the Director of Education at St. Fozzie's buy twenty Mr. Potato Head dolls (toys?) for a Lean simulation. As we plan the two-day intensive Lean training at St. Fozzie's, we keep talking about Potato Heads. I haven't been through the training yet, but apparently, Potato Heads have quite the power in Motorola/Toyota circles! Anyway, you can buy Notre Dame Potato Heads. One of my colleagues from St. Piggy's, a devout Purdue fan, bet me that Notre Dame would lose in last weekend's football game. He said that if Purdue won, I'd have to keep a Purdue Potato Head in my office all year. I matched that, saying he'd have to keep a ND Potato Head in HIS office if ND won. We spoke twice today and instead of referring to the victory trophy as a "Notre Dame Potato Head," he started calling it the "Irish Potato Head." But that just conjures up images from the Irish Potato Famine and no one likes to celebrate that. My plan is to decorate a stock Potato Head with a bunch of ND paraphernalia and ship it to St. Piggy's while he's facilitating the class at St. Fozzie's!

8.) Jack just brought home a beverage called ChocoVino. It appears that my weekend is starting NOW.

Peace out. Have a good weekend and GO IRISH.

Probably Just Nuts

So I'm probably nuts and you're all shaking your heads in confusion and disbelief as I announce my latest news...

I'm pregnant!

[Waits for the applause and cheering]

What, no applause and cheering?

[Hears only crickets chirping]

Wow, tough crowd!

OF COURSE, I'm kidding.

[What would you have done if I really was pregnant? Maybe I would have gotten a baby shower? I've only purchased 29 baby monitors, 34 onesies, and 12 hooded bath towels for other folks having babies! Oh, anyone reading this gets pregnant soon, you know what you'll get from me...a baby monitor, a onesie, and a hooded towel!]

Anyway, what I REALLY wanted to tell you is that I'm returning to graduate school.

[Waits for cheering and applause]

Wow, you guys are tough!

In all seriousness, I am planning my return to grad school to work on my M.A. in Theology. It sounds nuts, I know, but I feel like this part of me is hanging unfinished in the intellectual puzzle of my life. I started a Master's at Notre Dame while I was still in my undergrad. I bailed on it after one (very legalistic) class, knowing it wasn't the right time to pursue that education. Now that I've landed a great job and know where I'm heading career-wise, the M.A. will allow me to stretch my philosophical muscles and study what I really love.

[Yes, the idea of an MBA crossed my mind briefly...for about 2 milliseconds.]

And just to be clear, I'm not going back to school to study dogma or moral theology. It's a specialization in Bioethics. Instead of signing my life away to complete a PhD in Ethics (as I roughly planned), I'm starting with the M.A. This will let me finish the degree I started long ago, study what I love (Bioethics), and obtain more information to earn my keep on the St. Fozzie's Ethics and Hospice Ethics Committees.

Believe it or not, Jack's supportive. After I pitched the idea to him, he sighed, shook his head, and sought three gelcaps from the nearest Advil bottle!

And just for the skeptics out there, Jack is doing everything he can to position himself to return to school this fall. We're trying to keep Indiana residency so he can continue in the IU system.

We're a bunch of learnin' fools! Actually, we're probably just nuts!

1812 Overture...Weis!

I cannot believe Notre Dame fired Charlie Weis. Okay, I can believe it, but it seems preposterous. They are setting an unfair precedent; if a new coach does not have a winning record in five years, they're toast. They're yesterday's turkey carcass. They're ND rejects.

That's fine if ND wants to maintain this level of scrutiny. But why would they extend some of these coaching contracts by decades and tens of millions of dollars?

I've never particularly liked Coach Weis. He had a unique outlook on coaching and a strange disdain towards kleenex in cold weather. But I wish they'd give the guy a break.

[What is wrong with me? I must be feverish!]

Please Pass the Advil

First, I feel compelled to confess the fact that Jack and I bailed on the Fighting Irish yesterday. We had perfectly good tickets in section 134 (above the student section), given to me (for free) from one of my buddies in St. Fozzie's marketing department. I verbally accepted the tickets last week and they didn't materialize until Friday afternoon, a scant 24 hours before game time. Since I decided I was too busy to drive home to SB for the weekend, I tried to find an owner for the tickets. Since it was so late in the day, I couldn't even Fedex them overnight. So they sat, unused, in my briefcase.

It turned out okay, though. Jack and I both worked in the morning and accomplished a lot for our respective jobs. We went to a sports bar to watch the game and ended up meeting two of the nicest Michigan fan we've ever encountered. They rooted for the Irish and we shared stories from our individual undergrad experiences. The four of us cheered the Irish onto an overtime victory, despite our collective angst at ND for creating nail-biter games every single week!

That was the fun part of the day. My masochism got the better of me earlier in the day. Because I have that ritzy gym membership that I feel guilty for not utilizing, I decided to try a few of the exercise classes. I took the Spinning class a few times and felt ready for a new challenge. So yesterday morning, I joined the BODYCOMBAT class. One, I should have known it would be tough, since the word "combat" is part of the title. Two, I should have known that a class with its title in CAPS would prove reminiscent of an Army training drill. I walked into the exercise studio and asked around if anyone had attended this class before. The woman to my right answered, "Yeah, and I thought I was going to have a heart attack!" Great! I love heart attack-inducing work outs!

It started off benignly enough, with aeroboxing moves I've known for years. I was having fun, I already knew these moves! Take that, pent-up stress!

Then the choreographing started, with intricate foot movements and corresponding punch sequences. After a few tries, I caught on. Take that, Jillian Michaels!

Then another instructor stepped up on stage. To the beat of mesmerizing dance club beats, she taught us martial arts moves focused on balance. My core hasn't been worked like that in a while and after swaying unsteadily a couple times, I caught on. Take that, Karate Kid!

The martial arts moves quickly turned to street-fighting moves, where we were encouraged to "bash in the skull with your elbows!" and "Keep him down on the sidewalk and keep beating him!" The music swelled to a frantic pace as I obliged and beat the crap out of my imaginary attacker! Take that, imaginary rapist!

As I was bashing skulls and beating some attacker senseless, I felt my vertebrae cracking. I felt my left deltoid stretch a little too far. I felt my left calf muscle buckle after 45 minutes on my tip-toes. Gratefully, the pace of the class slowed down and we resumed the regular aeroboxing moves again. We eventually stopped the boxing and spread out on the floor to stretch our poor, exhausted muscles. I held "the plank" a little too long and felt my abs strain painfully.

I hobbled out of the studio and headed home for a well-earned, long, hot shower. I emerged feeling pretty great. I can DO this BODYCOMBAT class and LIVE to TELL about it. Who-hoo!

Then I sat down and worked and watched 7 hours of football. I realized it was NOT a good sign that I was already sore from my workout and it was still the same day! Every hour increased the pain exponentially, and I found myself repeatedly reaching for the Advil. The gym offers this class on Tu/Thur/Sat...so I only have 48 hours to recover before the next session!

Stop and Smell the Astigmatism

Since Da Boyz, meaning all of the males in my family from age 17 to 61, went to the ND v. Purdue game yesterday, I found myself with a bit of free time. I use the term "free" loosely, as I had 29 errands to run. However, as things slowed down in the evening, I propped my feet up at my mom's house, alternating between cuddling with the dog and screaming at Jimmy Clausen to please throw another touch down pass.

At half-time, my chit-chat with Mom became serious. She let me know how worried she is about me, that I'm not sleeping or eating well (you know how mom's are; they want to make sure you're nourished). She always expresses this consternation at my exhaustion...it's in her job description as "Mom." Almost every day, she'll either voicemail, text, or email me, telling me to "Stop and smell the roses." At first, I kept telling her I didn't have access to roses. Then she bought me a stunningly beautiful tropical plant for a housewarming gift. When I confessed that I totally killed the gorgeous plant, she feigned hurt when I had "committed herbicide." Most recently, she bought me a silk plant and included one of those little stakes that tells you how to care for the plant. On the stake, she had written "Dust quarterly."

Hopefully, I won't kill this one!

So to put Mom at ease and to reassure her that I'm in good hands, I told her about how my friend, Therese, borrowed me a statue of Padre Pio. Padre Pio is supposedly the patron saint of stress relief. My mom, trying to recall the legacy and sainthood story of Padre Pio, looked questioningly over at me and said, "He was the one with astigmatism, right?"

No, momma, he had the stigmata. But he might have required corrective optical action, too!

Rack o' Ribs

Our experiences on Saturday, September 12 warrant a whole post. Go grab a sandwich and a cold beer. I'll wait for you to get back!

We've had U2 tickets for the show at Soldier Field for months. The Edge got us great seats! So it was me, Jack, the Edge, and Yoshi's brother. We all have the U2 discography memorized! More to come on that event.

Anyway, I soon realized that ND was going to play Michigan in the afternoon. I don't have cable in my Chicagoland pad, so I hatched a plan to go downtown to a pub or bar and watch the game. Everyone thought that was a good idea, so we drove in early (since I conquered my city driving fears!), and found a little Irish pub in South Loop. What we didn't realize was that the whole pub was full of ND and Michigan fans. Actually, the Michigan fans were huddled at one table and they annoyingly sang the entire MI fight song every time MI did anything worthwhile. It was a riot in that pub every time ND scored or made a good play! I relished the comraderie, as we high-fived people we'd never met before.

We ordered wonderous pub burgers and loaded nachos, noshing our way through the first quarter. Then some official-looking guy came in the pub and made an announcement, asking if he could film the bar if he provided free Guinness pints! Sure, what the heck!? It was for some spotlight on ESPN's Sportcenter, and sure enough, the camera guy (who looked freakishly like Paul McCartney) strolled in with the big, fancy cameras. They filmed our party and then asked the bar to sing "Happy Birthday" to Arthur Guinness, while holding up our pints of Guinness. We complied, despite the feeling I was attending a frat party!

As the song concluded, Jack noticed the camera guy zooming in the focus, in the direction of my chest. He laughed and laughed. Looking down, I realized I was wearing my little green Guinness t-shirt. Whoops. Jack and Yoshi's brother informed me that my rack (their word) was probably going to get center stage on ESPN because of the unintentional Guinness promotion.

Great! Exactly what an aspiring hospital administrator hopes for! I just wish the Irish would have won the game!

By the way, the 2-minute spot is supposedly appearing on Sportcenter at 11pm on 9/24. Will someone please tape it for me? I'm curious to see if cameras add 10 pounds to all areas of the body!

*PS, the photo is of the Paul McCartney camera guy!

Quote Journal: (Loud) Notre Dame Fan

My quote-for-the-day on my calendar (you know, the tropical one that always makes me sigh when I remember I'm in a concrete jungle in a not-so-safe area of Chicago and can't even walk on short breaks between meetings) is great:

"In our leisure, we reveal what kind of people we are."
-Ovid.

First of all, who's Ovid? And second, what is leisure? I've had sparse "leisure" time, unless you count rocking out to my ipod while I'm on the train or walking downtown (the jury is still out whether walking with earbuds is safe). I caught a couple of movies this past weekend, but it was only because the other administrators at St. Fozzie's highly recommended them and I wanted to be understand the inside jokes. Other than that, my "leisure time" is usually spent doing yard work (oh wait, I hire that out now), reading leadership literature (but I asked for that and used to complain when my former boss didn't give it to me), exercising (I forgot I even joined a gym, for stressing out must surely sustain maximum caloric burn), and sleeping (does sleep even count as leisure time?). Do you consider it an absurd luxury when you wake up in the morning and can actually relax in bed without having to immediately coax yourself up, to the coffee pot, and into the shower? (I do.)

Now you know my weekend plans…to figure out what the heck "leisure" means and how I can get better at it. Well, that and partying, since the ND home opener is finally upon us. I'm excited to tailgate and to yell my head off (since we have Row 7 seats and might as well be sitting on the field). They better win or QB Jimmy's going to have a riot on his hands (I wonder if they'll scalp him like in the ol' Cowboy and Indian movies?)

So, according to this quote, my leisure defines what kind of person I am (a loud, obnoxious Notre Dame fan)? Hmm.

PS, I like parentheses in this post (obviously!)