It was a little before noon today when the nurse called to tell me that Calvin was miserable and crying endlessly so I'd better come get him because they were stumped. So much for productivity. I'd only just summoned the will to pull out the broom and sweep all the debris on the main floor of the house into a ginormous pile in the center of the living room. Suppose I might as well leave it there indefinitely and call it modern art. Maybe the kids will enjoy jumping in it like a pile of autumn leaves. Right now I so don't give a fuck.
While on the way to school to pick up my boy, a stupid useless c-word pulled out of a parking lot onto the main road, which is normally a fine thing to do, except she wasn't looking and I happened to be in her way. The massive gray-black snow banks on either side of her might have been a factor, but you're supposed to peek around those before gunning it. Brakes work as good as the horn on my car, yay for me. Wanted very much to pull up to within a millimeter of her back bumper and ride along the rest of my merry way with our two cars making sweet sweet love. Congratulate me that I didn't. That and the pile of modern art in the middle of the living room will be about the extent of my accomplishments today. I've done worse.
Just saying that I'm feeling a little discouraged (by which I mean burnt out to a crisp) but hopeful that this is the part of the movie where everything seems like shit on a shingle after a shower, then the clouds part, the sun pokes through, the plucky heroine gets a makeover and goes on a 10-day detox diet, and spring prevails.
I think that's probably the way it'll go.
Humor me.
