It’s happening a little early this year.
Work has been rewarding, but it requires much more focus and organization than I’ve ever needed before, and when I’m finally sitting in traffic on the dark ride home at the end of the day, I’m completely wiped out.
My greeting at home is usually not of the June Cleaver variety.
This week, Joey decided to take a ballpoint pen to my cloth-covered kitchen chairs (which are really the chairs for the formal dining room until I can afford the chairs I want). He dug the same ballpoint into the top of the wooden kitchen table. Last night, his shirt sleeve was torn to shreds from his chewing, and I have just about had it.
And the dog decided to use the dining room corner as his personal toilet, because I suspect my daughter would rather clean up dog poop than bother herself to take him out.
Yesterday morning I dragged the remains of my smashed-up grill that didn’t quite survive a high-winds storm and put it in the garage until I feel like rebuilding it.
And the Dentist texted me on Wednesday, “we r so busted.” We had decided not to tell our children we were dating, since the older kids are quite close, and we didn’t want it to be weird for them until we knew whether or not we wanted to pursue a relationship with each other. His son had texted him during school hours, “r u dating Niki’s mom?!” to which he vaguely replied, “put ur phone away at school.” I was confronted Wednesday evening by the young detectives, both of whom were wearing ridiculously smug grins on their faces and announced that they were “cool with it,” as they were already like brother and sister.
This morning I got up at 6:30 and made my regular pilgrimage to my hairdresser for an 8:00 appointment. For the first time in 2 years, I really don’t like my hair. She added a darker shade for dimension, but it has that ashy, Staten Island brunette-wanna-be-blonde look that I detest.
We had planned to cut down our Christmas tree today at a local farm, but I neglected to check the weather forecast, which is rain, rain, rain. Now my fucking ugly hair is frizzy, too.
I won’t bore you with the rest of the crappy details, but I will mention that I’ve also been suffering with shin splints and unable to run for the past week. I think the lack of endorphins has left me susceptible to the holiday blues.
The thing is, I haven’t even started holiday mode yet. My house is undecorated, my cards are unselected, my gifts are unaffordable, and my attitude is unfortunate.
Last night’s candlelight bath was a hint of the sanity I long for. Gotta… get… more… sane.