Wrath of the beast
So, uh, sorry about that entry last night. I’m having a wee little problem that sometimes occurs when your hormones are outta whack.
No, I’m not talking about the PMS-ish mood swings (many thanks and big smooches to those who were unfortunate enough to encounter me last night) or the other bizarre symptoms that the hormonal rollercoaster sometimes creates. I’m talking about the circle of hell that rhymes with beast. (Men: this is your cue to run.)
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It’s Valentine’s Day, and all I got…
… was the joy of procuring a sitter so I could run out to the pharmacy RIGHT NOW on the off chance that it will keep me from sticking my head in the oven.
Let’s see; sitter, prescription… that’s a lotta cash and no chocolate. Hmph.
On love
Kudos to Hallmark for creating a day when people are obligated to express their love to those they cherish. Why settle for spontaneous, heartfelt declarations when you can have calendar-dictated purchasing of greeting cards, I say!
By the way, before anyone gets their panties in a wad (although I certainly hope they are satin panties with little hearts! For the love of all that is consumer-oriented!!), I wrote this post last night and future-dated it. I’m not blogging from work. As this is being published, I am probably napping at my desk.
Kidding. We have free coffee and it’s good. I couldn’t nap there if I wanted to. Also I think I’ll set this to publish at lunchtime. Go ahead; you read and I’ll eat my sandwich.
Where was I? Oh! Right. Love.
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Maladies
So, this weekend. Yeah. Part of me is very pleased to have gotten done everything I needed to do, and to find myself sitting here on Sunday night (before 10, even!) with things in order.
And many of my friends/acquaintances are dealing with various levels of serious illness, ranging from the truly frightening to the plain ol’ crappy winter cold/flu. I have no right to complain.
But I’m just so damn good at it. And I believe people should play to their strengths, you know?
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Or-gan-i-zation…
(Please sing to the tune of “Anticipation” in your head. Or out loud, if you like that sort of thing.)
I never knew about the days to come
But I tried to face them anyway
And I wonder if I got everything done
Or if I’ll be up late another day
Organization, Organization
Is keeping me sane
Is keeping me running
Four loads of laundry, groceries, valentines, and more
Dishes, errands, and a movie night
Work’s done; now, jammies and popcorn and kids
They snuggle into me and everything is just right
Organization, Organization
Is keeping me sane
Is keeping me running
And tomorrow we head back to work and school
The house is clean, I’ve smothered my sweet loves
It went too fast, I want more time at home
But the weekend’s gone (I still can’t find my gloves)
I’m glowing
If you were here right now, you would behold before you a woman transformed. A woman languid and tousled and warm and blissful and flushed with the ultimate ecstasy.
That’s right. This very moment? I am still basking in the afterglow of nine uninterrupted hours of sleep.
Ohhhh, baby.
And my wondrous children? Bless their little hearts. Other than a tell-tale trail of pop-tart crumbs (which–come on–is a small price to pay), you can’t even tell they were up.
Ahhhhhh.
Anyway, as my week progressed I realized that I was developing some sort of weird repetitive stress injury in my elbow. So when I was granted Ye Olde Big Office Stuff Catalog I ordered a wrist rest, and I am really looking forward to receiving it. Because, you know, you’ve arrived once you have a wrist rest. And also my elbow hurts and I would like it to stop.
But this morning–fortified with all that delicious sleep–I realized the error of my assumption. It came to me in a flash, really. My elbow pain has nothing to do with the setup of my workspace. It more likely has everything to do with the ever-full bowl of peanut M&Ms that sits along the route between my office and the bathroom. (I drink about a gallon of water a day; you do the math.)
Anyway.
Answers to yesterday’s true/false tidbits beneath the fold. Don’t peek if you haven’t guessed yet!
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I just told my alarm clock to bite me
I did it. Made it through one! whole! week! at! my! new! job! Oops. I just blogged about having a job, so therefore I will now be fired. I should’ve been more careful. But you know, I heard about this sort of thing happening on the news, so it must be true.
[Sidebar: I have a friend who once explained to me that every crisis on the news can be boiled down to one of two basic plots. If the story isn’t “I want my baby back” then it’s “why water can kill you.” My friend is very wise.]
Anyway… it’s Friday night and I made it. I am still exhausted, but someday I’ll adjust to my new schedule. Right?? Say right. I am way too excited about the prospect of sleeping past 5:45 tomorrow morning. The children have been informed that they are more than welcome to get up at any time, but that I am not to be disturbed prior to 8:00. They may go downstairs, watch cartoons, help themselves to some breakfast, snort cocaine, set fire to the neighborhood pets, whatever, so long as I don’t have to open my eyes and/or pay attention until I actually feel like getting out of bed.
I think that’s fair.
Anyway, you’ve all been so supportive as I’ve rejoined the ranks of the working. It’s made so warm and fuzzy, I’ve decided to throw caution to the wind! That’s right! Well, truly, I am too tired to throw anything anywhere, so I’m just kind of lifting my caution wearily and hoping a gust of wind will pass by. But whatever. I simply must share some work highlights.
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The gangs of… New England?
Forgot to mention… yesterday’s rain had turned to snow by lunchtime. It started with snowflakes the size of golf balls before tapering down to something a bit less surreal. By the time I walked out of the office, it was a slushy yucky mess outside.
I started my car and got out again to brush off the snow and ice… whereupon I discovered my windshield wipers had both been pulled up to a 90 degree angle to the windshield. Both wipers stabbed skyward, rising up from snow-covered car like twin bayonets.
And beyond my car, extending down the row of parked vehicles… every single hood sported wipers sprung to attention. Was it a sign? Alien intervention? A giant magnet? A gang sign heralding the start of a turf war in the company parking lot? You know what they say… those gang members will pull up your windshield wipers while you’re inside working and then when you come out they’ll… ummmm… laugh at you.
My scanner is hosed
We must be getting close to Valentine’s Day, because the word scanner is taking on a (unintended!) decidedly sexual connotation for me…. (Sorry, Dad.)
Anyway, if my scanner was working, I could actually show you this masterpiece of art and creativity sitting in front of me. However, my scanner (insert chuckle here) is being tempermental and so you will just have to trust me that after a long day, this particular project made me laugh so hard, tears came to my eyes.
Today was the 100th day of school! That’s exciting! I don’t know why, but apparently it is. And since first grade in public school is so challenging and inventive (and monkeys fly out of my butt), part of the celebration was to give each child a fake $100 bill and a story sheet headed “If I had a hundred dollars….”
Chickadee the vegetarian/veterinarian did not disappoint.
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And they make good money
According to yesterday’s forecast, we were to have 6 to 8 inches of snow by this morning.
It’s raining.