And now, moving on.
Except that I don’t have time to tell you all about eating at Red Mill in Seattle yesterday, nor about the zoo. I don’t have time to mention the weather (thundershowers?) or lament the state of the laundry (piled up, STOP WEARING SO MANY CLOTHES EVERYONE!).
That’s because I have to cook dinner and deliver the 11-year old to football practice and then when I get back, I will make my bed and then recline upon it (because I cannot lay or lie because I can never remember which it is possible for me to do). I have a few books I’m reading right now.
I am so far behind that I can’t even see the person who is ahead of me. (You know, if you were running a marathon and you looked ahead and saw . . . no one? That’s me.) School is coming but before that, I have to make phone calls and invite people to the pool party that I have yet to plan. Which will take place on August 29, probably–I have to check the date and that requires an email and maybe a phone call.
Tomorrow two of my kids have haircuts scheduled.
The upstairs toilet is disgusting. Just in case you wondered.
And even though I loaded the dishwasher, the sink is full of dishes that were lurking in other parts of the house.
I can’t wait until the kids go to school because I am delusional and have convinced myself that I will have more time.
While writing this, I have shushed my six year old three times.
I’d tell you more, but I don’t have time.