Today I called in overwhelmed. Not sick, because no matter how many germs are circulating around in the blogosphere, I feel pretty well. I'm also pleased to report that the bad weather Badger sent up here from Texas is pretty much over. So that storm appears to have passed.
And speaking of passing, I'm thrilled to be able to report that I'm not constipated. Not that I ever am, but this being a blog, where it is apparently de rigueur to report on the state of one's bowels, I felt that I should let you know that all systems are go.
But this was going to be the shape of my day:
10:00 - 11:00 appointment in 'burbs
11:15 drive to city for 12:00 rehearsal, lasting until 1:30
1:30 drive home to suburbs,
Take hour off, pick up kids
Leave detailed notes and dinner preparation for babysitter; start overseeing homework
4:30 depart for 5:30 meeting downtown
7:30 opera with huzbin
Now those of you who work will be thinking, "What's the big deal? Sounds like a normal day to me." The thing is, I'm a housewife, and nobody is paying me jack$#|+ to charge around like this. This is all volunteer stuff. And I suspect that I'm taking on too much.
It could be that I'm lazy. Or feckless. Or maybe I have ADD (hmm, I wonder if I got any good mail today? Is it time for another mug of tea? What's for dinner?) But at any rate, I have more than enough to do, so I decided just for once to say "fuck it."
So I called in Overwhelmed. Or maybe Exhausted. Or Bratty. I'm not sure which. In fact, come to think of it, I didn't even call in. I'm basically playing hooky. Heh heh heh.
Wow, I'm really the girl gone bad. Can tight sweaters be far behind? And maybe I should start smoking and wearing too much eye makeup.
--P.
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