The Busy-ness of being me. Today.

I have no room left on my calendar for today.  Not one stinking bit.

The block that is outline and reserved for March 9th is full.  Full and overflowing and hanging a sign that says Ain't no room at the inn! as we speak.

The anti-student in me loves using words like ain't, but the English teacher in me is rolling over in her grave!

But, I ain't got time for jokes, people.  I've got stuff to do!

I have to leave by 8:30 so that I can drop my son off at preschool.  Then I must rush over to the Wal-Mart where I need to pick up my happy pill prescription, sponge paint brushes, and a gift for the Girl Scout craft box.

I have to leave there and rush to the sport medicine doctor by 10:00 to finally have my knee examined and wait for shocking results like Hey, Chick would you lose some weight already or Here's to knee surgery and it's long recovery with three kids or Perhaps you should just start smoking again - you're knee didn't hurt then.  


I don't think I'll get the last one, but a girl can dream...

Then I need to rush back to the house, throw my beef stew in the crockpot for dinner, and rush back out again to pick up my son at 12:15 from preschool.   We have speech therapy at 12:30, an hour to kill from 1-2, and then we must rush over to the elementary school to fight carpool traffic and be ready for Girl Scouts by 2:45.  A bunch of 5 year olds that think they're on a playdate!? Who wants to join me!?

There's a reason I taught high school.  I'm just sayin'...

We'll leave there by 4:00 and head home to quickly do homework and grab a bite to eat only to be back out the door by 5:30 to head over to the studio for Jake's first day of karate.

We'll get back home by 6:45 where we'll start the nighttime ritual of baths, hair, teeth, packing lunches, setting up coffee, and picking out clothes for three very different personalities.  I'll read them a book or two, pat their heads, and send them off to bed.

Only then will I proceed to die of exhaustion.  After I fold the 4 loads of laundry sitting on my bedroom floor.

But, hey! I get to sleep when I'm dead, right!?

Who am I kidding - I love this crap!