Last night I was thinking about various topics I could share with you today. The truth is, after writing about Mooning Amtrak on Monday, and Sir Issac Newton being responsible for the hole in the crotch of my lingerie on Tuesday, I was stumped. How does a person follow up topics like those?
I get emails and tweets and comments from people who think I have an exciting life. I really don't. In fact yesterday was pretty typical in being about as boring as possible. I thought I'd give you a glimpse into my real life today. Try not to yawn too many times as I give you a recap of yesterday.
6:00 a.m. Physically I'm up drinking coffee and stumbling around the house, but my brain is still on snooze. My brain doesn't wake up for a good two hours after my body is awake. I've got a killer headache and I'm blaming The Torturer and my return to PT the previous day. And where the hell are PR's football clothes?
6:30 a.m. I check my email inbox and Twitter replies while sipping on my coffee. A TV show has contacted me and is interested in my "story." I wonder if they mean Mooning Amtrak, my crotchless Spanx, or something else entirely? Or is it some type of prank email?
6:45 a.m. Wake up PR.
7:15 a.m. Send PR off to football camp
7:30 – 8:00 a.m. Reply to emails and tweets.
8:00 – 9:00 a.m. Shower, shave legs, shampoo, blow dry, use vibrating mascara. Admire my new boobs in the mirror. Wonder when, and if, my nipples will ever stop being bionic? Stare at Spanx warily but don't put it on. Get dressed.
9:00 a.m. Take other son to oral surgeon for wisdom teeth removal.
10:00 a.m. Sit across from my son in the recovery room. He's stoned out of his mind on the drugs they gave him. He keeps staring at me with a goofy grin on his face and saying, "This feels niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiice!" over and over again. Immediate concern about him leaving for college sets in as I see how much he enjoys the drugs.
11:00 a.m. Arrive home with drugged son. He made me laugh so hard on the drive home I nearly wet my pants. Good thing I wasn't wearing any "shapewear"! Change bloody gauze in son's mouth for the first time. Gag. Realize I'm not nurse material. Gag again.
11:15 a.m. Leave for pharmacy to get son anti-nausea prescription to counteract anesthesia. Think about returning home to bloody gauze and pop one of his pills myself while still in the car. I think it might be illegal to take your kid's drugs but who cares.
11:40 a.m. Give son medicine, prop him up on pillows, give him ice packs. Don't gag thanks to taking son's medicine. Pride myself on being a good mom.
12:00 noon At local smoothie store. Order smoothies for both of my sons. After paying I remember they want protein powder in their drinks. The owner throws it in for free and I feel like I got a bargain.
12:30 p.m. Hand drugged son his smoothie and a spoon. Go upstairs to give other son his smoothie. Come downstairs to see stoned son is missing his numb mouth and blueberry smoothie is running down his shirt. When I point this out to him he begins giggling as only a drugged person can. It makes me laugh too.
1:00 p.m. I'm at the grocery store buying soft foods for RC to eat the next few days. Pudding, jello, yogurt, eggs. As I'm leaving a day laborer wanders in, grabs something and runs out to a waiting car without paying. Right in front of me! This is not something you see in Money Town
ever very often. After the initial shock wears off I actually feel sorry for him. Not that I'm condoning stealing, but how desperate for food does a person have to be to do that?
2:00 p.m. Arrive home. Unload groceries. Check on boys. Take care of RC's immediate medical needs. Pay bills. Did I mention paying bills is the chore I hate most? It's boring, it's tedious. I get up fifty times during the process to procrastinate.
3:30 p.m. Leave for a long overdue manicure. My nails look like angry, ragged, claws.
4:00 p.m. At the salon. Marvel at how many bad face lifts exist in Money Town. With all the money these people have, why don't they get a decent doctor? Two ladies have foreheads that go clear to the other side of the room. Their hairlines are all wrong. Another woman looks as if her lips might go airborne any second. They're so big they look like giant flapping wings ready for flight. Cock my head sideways and imagine moving their faces around to make them look normal again. Sigh and give up.
5:00 p.m. Home. Briefcase calls from his business trip and as soon as I say hello he announces he can't talk "right now" but that he'll call me right back. Puzzled I hang up. Why did he call to tell me he can't talk? A minute later he calls again, pauses for a minute, and then again tells me he can't talk and will call back later. I debate saying, "Don't bother" but instead I shrug and hang up.
6:00 p.m. Order pizza for PR. Throw football clothes in the laundry. Give RC a bowl of pudding and more drugs. The pizza arrives as I'm completing a few chores. I snag a piece and eat it while I check email again. It's then I receive news that a friend is finally out of a full day cancer surgery. My stomach has been in knots all day thinking of her.
7:00 p.m. I sit down with my laptop. My Google Reader is exploding with reading material I haven't gotten to. I have a lot of people I owe email responses to. Mr. Producer has emailed again to tell me it's the car accident "story" his TV show is interested in. For some reason this makes me pensive. There's a lot of bad memories there and I decide I'm not ready to respond to him.
7:30 p.m. I check Facebook for the first time in eons. Immediately a chat box opens. A friend is wanting to chat about some pretty deep issues. We Facebook Chat for awhile. The conversation is making my brain swirl with thoughts and issues. At t
he same time I'm worried about my friend with cancer and the email from the producer. Do you ever feel like there's just too much happening all at the same time?
8:00 p.m. I tell my friend we'll have to talk more later. I need to write a blog post. At the same time my Twitter account is practically yelling at me to respond to people. My Google Reader is reminding me of all my writing friends' blogs I've neglected lately and my email inbox is screaming accusations at me. I try to push it all out of my brain. I stare at my laptop. I ponder what to write. I think about my boring day … and I begin typing.
© Twenty Four At Heart