Tuesday, October 05, 2004

As Close to Drunk Blogging as I Get

What was a saying about sleep?

Last night I crashed. I was supposed to be joining my husband in the tub, but I never made it there. He came downstairs at 9 p.m. and found me sleeping in the chair. Oops.

But he somehow talked me into taking a bath of my own. And I feel asleep. I sort of remember drifting out of consciences but thinking, "Whoa! Potential drowning hazard. Wake up, idiot." But I slipped away.

So I climbed out of the tub, threw on a bathrobe and crawled into bed, without doing the myriad of tasks that I had to do by 7 a.m. this morning. So I set my alarm for 5:30 a.m.

I was outside in the dark this morning, cleaning my van. Who the hell let my kids have so many crackers in the car? Oh yeah. That was me.

And how did I spend my morning? On a field trip to a Pioneer Village with 40 5-year-olds and my own 2-year-old. Dear. Holy. Lord. Whoever had that bright idea?

So have I mentioned that I didn't volunteer to be a room mother this year? That was the best decision I ever made. But AH is one of the two room mothers.

Boys and girls, can you say, "Cluster fuck?" Disorganization in, say, a business setting is one thing. But five-year-olds are like animals. If they see you floundering, they're going in for the kill.

And I just sat back, with one tuna kid in each hand, and laughed a little inside. I can be a vindictive witch. Especially when I've been up since 5:30 a.m.

At this point, I am too tired to even function. If this post makes sense at all, it will be a minor miracle.

And so I'm off to spend some money on the web. Theater tickets. Plane tickets. Hotel reservations. Let's hope I don't fuck it all up. Come December I could find myself watching a production of Cats in Chernobyl and staying at a Red Roof Inn.

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