Yesterday I could not post, for lo, I was busy SEETHING. And also shaking my fist at the sky. And ranting on Facebook about the seething and the fist-shaking. And also eating a bagel. And later, baking cookies. (Rage requires extra carbs!) Remember this little issue where my school district is spending a bazillion dollars on buses and the solution to that problem is to redo the school zones immediately, resulting in 60% of our kids being forced to switch schools next year? Yeah, well, they voted on their crack-addled proposal and it passed. Unanimously. Because it will save tons of money,...
On a typical day, I don't get dressed until lunchtime. I could tell you that I'm more creative in my pajamas, or that I set a certain amount of work I feel I must complete before I've "earned" a shower, but the reality is that I'm lazy. And my pajamas are cozy and warm. I've seen more than one person giving "advice" to freelancers insisting that you should get up and shower and dress and PUT ON SHOES to begin your day, to give yourself some structure and take yourself seriously and stuff, and I have to say that I think that's absolute crap. If you can't get any work done unless you're fully...
My fridge runneth over. Well, that's not entirely true; it runneth over less than it did a few days ago. We're doing a pretty good job of working through the leftovers, and I've already made several things OUT of the leftovers, and this week's grocery shopping consisted mostly of milk and orange juice and bread. Because there's tons of food here. You would think that, after having cooked for a dozen people last week, I would want to STOP COOKING NOW. But if you thought that, you would be wrong, because I am mentally ill. Thanksgiving trips the MUST! COOK! center of my brain, and I won't be...
So we were just finishing up dinner on Thanksgiving when I gazed lovingly across the table at my two favorite men. Otto was still working on his mashed potatoes, but Monkey was staring off into space. And his plate was still full. "Hey, buddy," I said. "Aren't you hungry?" He roused from his... whatever it was (I want to say reverie but he was just kind of spacing out)... and said, "Huh? Not really. I'm kind of tired. Can I go upstairs and lie down for a little bit?" Happy Thanksgiving! Enjoy the turkey, all the trimmings, three kinds of pie, and a child with a fever of 101! It worked out...
So, I keep wanting to tell you more about the gala---like that it was hosted by alums Deborah Norville and Deborah Roberts, who kept being referred to collectively by people like the president of the university as "the Deborahs," which made me want to collectively punch someone in the face, although I was apparently in the minority in finding it demeaning rather than cute---but I am too mired in consternation. The time has come to admit that I am still grieving the loss of our old babysitter. Our regular babysitter in New England was a neighbor, which was a happy coincidence when we first...
Oh, I will have stories to tell about the Big Gala---including serendipitous seating next to a delightful woman I wished to tuck into my pocket and take home with me, except that I didn't have any pockets so I had to leave her there---but they will have to wait, for the moment. And because all you really care about is what I wore and how I did my hair, that's fine with you. Right? Right. Who cares about the PEOPLE and the stuff they SAID or the fact that the molten chocolate raspberry something-or-other dessert was actually so rich I was unable to finish it (a first in my history with...
This weekend Otto and I were trying to spend some quality time with the children---by which I mean that we adults were holed up in the office, each working away on our separate computers, while the kids figured out new and exciting ways to throw bowling balls at each other on the Wii---when our internet connection... started. . . slooooooooooowiiiing. . . down. Wayyyy down. Like, "Dammit, Otto, stop uploading monster photos!" "Uh, I'm not uploading ANYTHING!" kind of slow-down. So of course we called to report the problem and they had us do some transfer rate tests that proved that our DSL...
Hey, does anyone remember the last time I got my hair cut and colored? Anyone? Let me refresh your memory! Also note that the date on that post was last MARCH. That was the last time I stepped foot in a salon. Because I was scarred, man. Scarred for life. Also, the parking ticket I got that day turned out to be THREE parking tickets (nice of them to come back and add on, no?), and that just seemed like the final nail in the debacle coffin. Now, I made a conscious decision over the summer not to color my hair, because I'd rather swim all summer than worry that I'm stripping out my color, but...
I have to say that I think I've empirically proven that misery does, indeed, love company---I found it immensely gratifying reassuring that many of YOU are in something of a funk recently, as well. It hadn't even occurred to me before that the time change might be a factor, and that's because I have brain damage. Because I have Seasonal Affective Disorder and OF COURSE the time change is a factor, moron, just like it is EVERY YEAR. I've dug out my trusty full-spectrum light, and we'll see if that helps. But just to cover all of my bases, I've decided to try some other stuff, too. It just...
