I sometimes get excited when people tell me that they enjoy this blog so very much that they’re going to give me an award (or at least I’m assuming they like it, because if they hated it or thought it sophomoric and tedious they wouldn’t be awarding me anything, would they? (unless of course the awards are all big jokes on me, which is why I don’t sidebar them for fear it’s all a vast internet prank aimed SOLELY AT ME, which is a thought pattern that kept me from dating much in my teen years)).
Yes, I get excited. Everyone likes praise, from the tiniest toddler learning to toddle to the eldest individual who still can toddle (and chew, and change their own sodden diapers), from the most mentally challenged of us who beam when a LEGO finally snaps together properly to the astoundingly intelligent who beam when their laser touches off cold fission (fusion?). Praise is good, to be eagerly anticipated, so when someone says ‘hey I have an award for you, come over and get it’ of course the first thing you do is go over to their house to pick up your award, no matter if it’s deserved or not.
Well, I’m still waiting for mine….and so today’s post is rather disappointingly for me NOT about getting an award, it is rather about what happened to me this morning that engendered a powerful hunger to crawl back in bed and wish heartily for a mostly-total do-over.
Chronology as follows:
1:25 a.m. – wake up, look at clock, groan, fall back to sleep.
2:45 a.m. – wake up, look at clock, groan, fall back to sleep.
3:35 a.m. – wake up, look at clock, groan, fall back to sleep.
Rinse and repeat at 4:20 and 5:15.
6:15 a.m. – get poked in the side by bed partner, wake up. Get up, brush teeth, pee, put the dog out, go back to bed. Spend some quality time. Fall back to sleep. (this is the bit I'd NOT do over, in case you're wondering)
7:40 a.m. – wake up, look at clock, say ‘oh shit,’ get up, wake up kids. Go to pantry to get coffee can so as to make the bean squeezins, step in still-warm cat puke (positioned PRECISELY in the middle of the floor. Nice shootin’, cat).
7:45 a.m. - (note: this is normally about the time we LEAVE for school, which starts at 8:15) make lunches, slam down coffee, get dressed, sign agendas, nag about the importance of brushing teeth, admonish Thing 2 to change shirt because wearing the same one 2 days in a row just ain't cool, administer cold meds, get dressed enough to drive kids to school.
8:05 a.m. – break longest fingernail on car door while loading up car.
8:12 a.m. - Decide to get sick for the rest of the day. Check systems to see which can fail fastest first. Determine that I am, in fact, not sick, drive back home, get a shower, get dressed, and go to work.
Sigh.
So here I am in Da Kyoob, logy as hell, needing a caffeine drip, avoiding e-mails, wishing for a sudden burst of lottery winnings to fall directly in my lap, and boring the shit out of anyone reading this.
Oh, plus which, if sudden sweaty spells and an itchy nose are any indication, I think I’ve caught Thing 1’s cold. So there’s that to look forward to.
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We went out to dinner last night, which was nice. Maybe not 100 dollars nice (erk!), but there were appetizers and chopsticks. And the Things ate honest-to-God Asian food, which pleased me to no end. With chopsticks. All right, so the sticks were generally used to SPEAR the food, but hey man, baby steps.
Also? I’m finding out that Thing 1 has very expensive taste indeed. Filet mignon, my eye, young man, you’ll have the shrimp in lobster sauce and LIKE IT. And so he did. And ate bok choi. Like a bunny.
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Guess I’ll go commence to waitin’ for that AWARD I am supposed to be getting. That might be all I get done to day, so I’d better to it up right.
Y’all have yourselves a fine, fine day.
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