Last year was a year of uncertainty.
This year has a little more structure . . . but much of it remains shrouded in a giant cloud of the unknown.
Frankly, I’m not fond of being unable to see what’s going to happen next. I’m more of a planner. I like to line things up in alphabetical order and sort things from tallest to smallest. And this year is a gigantic ball of tangled yarn that is too big to hold, let alone untangle.
Well. So. There’s that.
Meanwhile, the painter will be here at 9 a.m. and I’m so very sad about that because as it turns out, tomorrow there’s no school (still?) and it would be a perfect Sleep-In Day but since I thought there was school until a short while ago, the painter has already received permission (from me!) to come at 9 a.m. He’ll be painting the upstairs bathroom and possibly my 8-year old daughter’s room, a fact that makes me want to cry because her room is in complete disarray and that means that tomorrow morning not only will I be unwillingly awake but I will be sorting through the debris on her floor, wondering what kind of mother allows a child to have such a sloppy room.
Good night. More tomorrow unless I am dead from lack of sleep.