Scratchy throat... coughing... little desire to do anything but sleep. I'm not sick yet, but I can feel my body wanting to go there. Sorry, no can do. Much too busy to be sick. I can pencil in a small illness around September 5th but have got WAY too much going on until then. Writing projects, book projects, speeches and presentations, training... none of it will wait. So sorry body, suck it up. No illness allowed for at least two weeks.

I have the same relationship with my husband that many of us have with car mechanics. We take our car in because it's making a funny noise, only the minute the mechanic slides behind the driver's seat, the funny noise disappears and he's left looking at you with an expression of mild concern for your mental well-being. 

Same thing in the Harris house. If you read yesterday's entry, you know I was trapped at home with no phone and no e-mail. I went to yoga last night to calm down and before I left I checked the phone--still open on the other end and we couldn't call out. Blair gets home, picks up the phone, sets it down, and says, "I've got a dialtone."

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Updated on Monday, August 11, 2008 at 04:07PM by Dena Harris

If anyone is reading this, send the Geek Squad immediately to my home as I have somehow managed to delete, hide, or banish to the outer reaches of the netherworld my outgoing e-mail server. In an attempt (and yes, I should have known better) to fix the problem with my dena@kissmykittybutt.com e-mail account, I somehow managed to set it up so that ALL my e-mail accounts recieve mail, but I can't send messages out. 

Not only that, but the phone saga continues. For those new to this drama, it goes something like this:

The phone rings in my house. I go to answer it but receive a "Welcome. Please wait..." message on my cordless phone.

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Blair and I spent an hour plus today reviewing finances and outlining our financial goals, plans, and dreams for the future. Since we're no longer funneling money into the cabin fund, we needed to make some decisions on where the extra money should go. Once Blair vetoed my idea of just handing it over to me and letting fate float the money where it may, we got serious.

Number one priority is the money pit, aka, our home. I love our 100-year-old home with its 6 (non-working) fireplaces, hardwood floors, high ceilings and wide, worn staircase. I do not love 6 non-working fireplaces, outside doors with cracks big enough for a small cat to crawl under, 30-year-old carpet in the front bedroom and popcorn ceilings. (To whomever sprayed popcorn texture in our historic home: When I find you, I will hurt you.) 

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Part of the fun of visiting people or having them visit you is you're exposed to that person's or family's eating habits. Most of us tend to buy the same foods week after week--our favorite chips or granola bars, same 'ol fruit and veggies, our favorite spaghetti sauce, cola drink, or boxed pasta.

I told you how much fun it was to come back from the Outer Banks and find our housesitter had left lager and chocolate-peanut butter ice-cream behind. Bonus! I never buy those things for myself and so had a little kitchen holiday inside the home. I had a similar experience yesterday with some CHOCOLATE Special K my niece had left behind.

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