Sep 12 2007
The Funny - Make It Come Back
Y’all. Are you wondering about the funny? Geez. Semi-seriousness on Monday. Complete seriousness yesterday. For cryin’ out loud - even Sunday was nuthin’ but a bitch-fest.
So, um, yea, sorry about that. I need some of the funny back myself. Instead, I’ll bore the crap out of you with:
5:51 am - Alarm goes off. Mr. Hot shoves me in the shoulder to let me know that the alarm has started beeping. He forgets that I am deaf when I lay on my right side. Or my left side. Or if the day starts with M, T, W, or F. The alarm doesn’t go off on “S” days, so … not an issue.
5:52 am - Hit snooze.
6:00 am - Moan. Turn over and try to move arm that has been trapped under 35 lb dog and is now full of needles. Turn off alarm.
6:03 am - Moan. Get up. Bash hip into various pieces of furniture.
6:05 am - Walk down hallway to bathroom. Potty. (Aren’t you glad I share?) Turn on water and pray that it warms up quickly. Shampoo, condition, wash, shave the fuckin’ pieces that need to be shaved.
6:20 am - Back to bedroom. Stop at Shortman’s door and yell that it’s time to get up. Tell dog (who is laying on Mr. Hot’s pillow) “Go wake up Shortman”. Dog looks up, moans, and goes back to sleep. Bash other hip on same various pieces of furniture.
6:23 am - Yell at Shortman again. Mr. Hot brings in coffee.
6:25 am - Yell at Shortman again.
6:27 am - Yell at Shortman again. “If I don’t hear feet hit the floor, I’m coming in and pulling that blanket off your ass!” (Shortman sleeps ‘au naturel’. He doesn’t know I know this. What could be worse than having your mother find out in quite that manner?) Shortman gets his nekkid butt up.
6:55 am - Feel competent and awake enough to dry my hair.
7:00 am - Realize that I hate my hair. For the seven-zillionth time.
7:05 am - Moisturize. Put on makeup. Try to not poke eye out with eyeliner or mascara wand. Put hair in ponytail or some sort of clip. Realize I hate my hair. For the seven-zillion-and-first time.
7:15 am - Walk to closet. Step on cat that decides it’s time to come out from under chair that is piled with clothes that need to be dry-cleaned. Look at clothes that are hanging (and don’t need to be dry-cleaned). Pick pair of black pants (out of 12 pairs of black pants). Pick shirt that doesn’t break any dress code rules. Change to different pair of black pants. Yell at Shortman to go put in his contacts, “We’re leaving at 7:30 on the dot!” Pick out earrings. Put on rings.
Seriously, black pants.
7:25 am - Look for security badge.
7:27 am - Find security badge on original pair of black pants.
7:31 am - Back to bathroom to brush coffee stained teeth.
7:35 am - Throw fruit in bag for lunch. Kiss Mr. Hot goodbye. Kiss Poopy Puppy goodbye. Watch Shortman put on shoes. Swear that tomorrow, we’re out the door at 7:30. No later. Seriously.
7:36 am-6:05 pm - Drop Shortman at school. Drive to office. Check email. Check work email. Work shit. Read a couple of blogs during especially boring conference calls. More work shit. Eat lunch. Drop blob of yogurt on black pants. Read another blog or two during lunch. Go to face-to-face meeting. Work. Listen to bitching. Sigh a lot. More conference calls. (Oh, the glamour!)
6:10 pm - Drive home. Kiss Poopy Puppy. Kiss Mr. Hot. Yell to Shortman “Did you do your homework?” (Because it’s the law when you’re a mom that you have to yell that, apparently).
6:30 pm-9:30 pm - Work out (okay, shut.up. - I really do this). Eat dinner. Have a beer or glass of wine, or several. Monday and Thursday - watch football. Clean cat litter. Sigh a lot. Ask Shortman if he’s done his homework. (Again, yes, that law thing) Listen to Mr. Hot explain politics. Try to remember in case I’m quizzed later. Tell Shortman we’re leaving at 7:30 tomorrow morning. Try to look serious when saying this. Know that being laughed at by a 15-year-old really undermines my parental authority.
9:35 pm - Brush teeth, wash face, collapse into bed. Pick up book. Read one page and then snore.
—- Once upon a time, someone gave me a book to read. “The Changing Life of a Corporate Wife.” They evidently thought I was going to marry an executive. This cracks me up every time I think about it. Dinner parties? Business events? Ha. Ha, I say!—-
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I’m starting to realize I like living by myself with no kids.
Because I wake up at 6:40 and I’m out the door by 7:20. Because I don’t have to wake anyone up.
My 130 pound dog wants to know what just had me bark with laughter. Hilarious and I can totally relate.
All the blogs I’ve been reading today are making me want to homeschool, after I finally talked dh into a school. BLAHHHHH!!!!!
Mrs. Hot - You slay me. And wow, we have such similar mornings. Mine was perfected at 4:30 by a 12 lb. cat chewing on my calf so he could get under the covers.
Kristabella, even if I had no one to wake up, I still wouldn’t make it out the door in less than an hour. I’m still barely coherent by then.
TxPop - 130 lbs? That’s actually my kind of dog. I grew up with a Great Dane that slept in my bed. I’m still thinking about trading in Poopy for something bigger (kidding)!
Marie - Neither Shortman nor I would survive a week of homeschooling. We’d either both sleep through it or kill each other!
Marianne - Thanks! I like stopping by your home too. Glad you and the Little Targette are sharing time with me.
My least favorite times of the day are getting my kids ready for preschool and trying to corral them to the car after preschool. My favorite part of the day is when they’re IN preschool. Shhh, don’t tell anyone
Mini - Your secret is safe with me.
Sue - Uh. No. Actually, more like whatever I manage to accomplish between 6:30 and 7:30 (or so) ends up demolished by 8:30 - what with the dinner and beer.