Mom’s taxi service.
Then, in between a drop-off and a pick-up, I stopped by Target to pick up essentials: hand soap, kitty litter, toilet paper (and more) . . . all the dumb stuff you have to spend money on to maintain a certain standard of living.
More Mom’s taxi service.
Then I dropped off my passenger and went straight to Costco, along with a thousand of my closest friends. I have been trying to cook regularly which means you have to buy food, including packages of meat that cost $30. I try to remind myself that even a ridiculous fast food meal for seven people costs more than $30, but there’s a frugal girl living inside who hates to spend money on meat that costs $30. Anyway, enough about me.
(Ha ha. That’s funny because this blog is all about me. Whatever.)
So, then back home to unload and put away the groceries and toiletries (except for the 35-pounds of kitty litter that I left in the trunk of the car because why isn’t anyone helping me unload the car?).
Then: Mom’s taxi service. Dinner for the half of the family that was home.
Then: A quick trip to the beach to take a chance on seeing the sunset. (A storm is moving in . . . you never know if the clouds will make the sunset better or worse. Tonight the clouds won.)
Back home and I cooked dinner for the other half of the family who was returning home.
I ate dinner myself and had (literally) thirteen minutes for a quick snooze before work. And now I’ve worked for four hours and I need to get to bed. It’s so late that it’s early, you know?
Now, the plot I just recited doesn’t tell you these things:
1) Yesterday I broke a lightbulb when it slipped from my hand while I stood on a ladder in my closet. I watched it bounce onto a mirror leaning against a shoe rack and then I saw the light bulb shatter. I was just relieved that the mirror didn’t break. (Seven years bad luck, right?)
2) A child in my family lost a phone charger somehow on the walk from the car to the house. This person called me up and asked me to stop by an Apple store to buy a new charger. As if. Later, this person responded to my questions (so I could retrace steps and find the charger) with annoyance and snottiness and exasperation.
So I did what any self-respecting 50-year old mother of four would do. I slammed the door at this kid.
And then for good measure, I slammed my own bedroom door, too. (I apologized later not because I was really sorry but because I wanted to model apologizing for this kid. Truth.)
3) Lola the Dog hates watching reality television and sports with me. I can’t help it. Occasionally, I exclaim, “OH NO!” and Lola looks at me with reproach and fear and walks around to the other side of the bed behind my husband’s recliner and stares at me. She does not approve of outbursts.
4) A different “child” in my family has quit an activity. I can’t really share details but I am including this here for my future self to read so that my future self can look back and laugh at how my current self worried and despaired and thought that perhaps this “child” would never leave home, would never find his path, would never learn to persevere. My future self will say, “Oh, why did you waste so much time freaking out and being upset and concerned? Things worked out! Look! Everything’s fine!”
My current self is doubtful.
5) Tonight, a jar of sliced green olives tumbled off a pantry shelf and broke on the tile floor.
My goals for tomorrow:
No door slamming.
No breaking glass items.