People, I am starting to despair over the pace at which I've been living these past two weeks (hell, past six years, but who's counting). For starters, I recently attempted -like a deranged amnesiac; seriously, why do I still try to do this?- to order bathing suits online, a process about which I am guardedly ever-hopeful but which always results in a horrid, grim trying-on session in my room, a hurried OhMyGodNo! repacking of all suits into their packaging bags, and an attempt to return said suits five minutes ago. Awful. Positively, bloody, awful.
This morning, Nutmeg woke me up, and the race began. I took Jack to Antarctica (really just Fairfax but with DC-area traffic I might as well have been dog-sledding to Texas during the summer so slow is the trip) to see the pediatric urologist, and mercifully, all is well. The bruise and swelling are noticeably better today so yay, yay, yay. Then to school, a quick hour at home during which I did approximately 4% of my to-do list, to school to pick up Oliver, home for lunch, to gymnastics, oops- there goes my gas light: ON!, to the gas station, back home, a quick break, to Jack's final chess class for the trophy ceremony, back home, a weary online order for a pizza for the boys' dinner, a sort and start of the new Star Wars puzzle, random child nakedness, finding that Percy had peed in my bathroom, resignation over the fact that I'm truly starting to feel more than ambivalence for this dog, further resignation over the my certitude that he will probably live forever, realization of and dismay about the fact that I have not gotten to sit and write for nearly three weeks, a slight degree of panic over the fact that we are leaving for a family vacation in eight days and all I truly HAVE to do before then is one hell of an immense list.
I am hungry but have absolutely no idea for what, and that's never a good sign. When did it get to be 8:00pm?? How?