Once in a Lifetime

You may find yourself, living in a shotgun shack
5:45 am: Make a pee-pee—on the toilet. No one applauded...
5:46 am: Read emails
6:05 am: Obsessively look at the next week's daily to-dos.
6:10 am: Open all-too-loud closet door (thank you 100-year-old house) to get pants for gym. 10:15 pm of the night prior forgot to remind me to get them then.
6:15 am: Roll down window of car to feel the quiet morning breeze en route to the gym.
6:20 am: Pull into gym parking lot and realize that I left my headphones at home in my other purse. Consider packing it in altogether and going home. Don't.
6:22 am: Smile at woman at front desk. Wonder why she always wears a scarf around her neck. Is it fashion or necessity? Get annoyed at myself for thinking such vapid thoughts.
6:23 am: Decide to do weights only today because cardio sucks sans TV.
6:24-7:00 am: Workout medium. Get motivated to do better next time. Wonder why I just don't choose to do better this time.
You may find yourself in another part of the world
7:01 am: Make happy decision to go to Starbucks. Debate over coffee verses tea. Hope that I choose tea even though I'd rather coffee.
7:10 am: Choose tea. Iced. Green.
7:15 am: Return home to babe and Babe up in bed, watching Noggin. Try to sneak onto computer before entering bedroom to greet family. Hear: "I want to see her." Feel like a jerk.
7:20 am: Coax crew downstairs for the morning shenanigans. Babe goes into his office to work. babe begins her brigade of breakfast—or should I say Sunday brunch at the Four Seasons.
Somewhere in between 7:20 and 8 am: Read Page Six. Feel normal again.
8 am: Bring babe upstairs and get her dressed for the day. Go back onto computer to check emails.
8:10 -9:45 am: I think I started an article. I know I spoke to Chelsea. She pearled me with her wisdom: "I don't negotiate with terrorists," said when she spoke about her son in between discussing fall editorial.
9:46 am: Debate whether to join my family as they jaunt to pick up my sitter/niece. Think through the entire scenario as if I were going to be tested on it. Decide against it.
9:47 am: Babe and babe leave to pick up sitter.
You may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile
9:48-10:15 am: Work like the dickens. Talk to Amy.
10:15 am: Greet niece. Make egg whites—a late addition to the buffet.
10:20 am: Eat egg whites. No toast. No cheese. Just egg whites. Who rules now? Drink 16 ounces of water. Who mega rules now?
10:23 am: Start cleaning up—yes, just three minutes later. Call girlfriend to confirm how bad coffee is for you. I know how bad it is, but I wanted confirmation, ergo praise for my good choice.
10:24 am: Girlfriend not answering. Leave lame message.
10:25-12:00 pm Work like the dickens.
12:00 am: babe napping. Run out to local market to pick up lunch and dinner—and to spare my sanity from the confines of my office.
And you may find yourself in a beautiful house
12:25 pm: Marvel at how quickly a gal can spend $75.
12:45 pm: Put lunch out on the table for my peeps. Choose turkey sans bread for me. Yep, just an ugly, fleshy looking roll up and a little cole slaw I treated myself to.
12:48 pm: Take vitamins—yes, just three minutes later. Drink 16 ounces of water.
12:50 pm: Clean up. Wait, impatiently, for peeps to finish, so I can clean up. Wish I could be in the moment. Decide to work on that tomorrow.
1:00 pm: Work like the dickens.
3:00 pm: Take niece home, babe in tow. Thankful that something got me out of my office.
3:20 pm: Return home. Plop babe in bed—mine, per her request—turn on shows—hers, per her request. Stress over new issue going live tonight. Wish that we could dine al fresco avec el drinko tonight. Remember that it will be an all-nighter for one of us.
3:25: 4:59 pm: Work like the dickens.
5:00 pm: Whole family is hungry. Start dinner.
5:10 pm: Dinner is served. Best $75 I ever spent.
5:11- 6:00 pm: Sit down, listen to new Bob CD I purchased at Starbucks, think about what a wacky and innovative business model they have, scold babe for throwing peas at me, hold back laughing, marvel with Babe at babe's arm, discuss scholarships, watch babe dance, dance. Feel happy.
6:01 pm: Clean up. Babe helps. Feel grateful for having such a great Babe and babe.
With a beautiful wife
6:10 pm: Take babe upstairs. Return emails.
6:25 pm: Commence bath, bed, book. Think about that email forward I posted on my blog about a mom who wishes she didn't wish away the bath, bed, book routine now that her kids are older. It helped—kinda.
6:26-7:00 pm: Laugh.
7:00 pm: Put babe to bed. Laugh. Babe makes up non-words to babe's nighttime music. Yes, it's a habit now—the music, not the made up words.
7:05 pm: Thank the lord that I got out alive. Return to computer.
7:15 pm: babe says she hungry. Realize I fed too early. Think curse words. Babe told me to give her snack before bed. Take babe downstairs.
7:16 pm: Give babe yogurt. She eats it. Give babe bread and butter. She eats it. Give babe water mellon. She eats it.
7:30 pm: Brush again. Return babe to bed. She goes right down.
7:35 pm: Go downstairs. Peer into office of Babe who is squinting at his computer. Feel bad about how tired he looks. Feel stress about his stress—even though he's more tired than stressed. Feel guilty nonetheless.
7:36 pm: Fight with a cookie.
7:36:30 pm: Fight with another cookie.
7:37 pm: Fight with another cookie.
7:38 pm: Drink 16 ounces of water as if it will nullify the cookies.
7:40-8:00 pm: Work like the dickens.
8:01 pm: Decide that taking garbage out for Babe is the right thing to do. Scan my brain for ways to avoid it. Come up with nothing. Take out the garbage.
8:07 pm: Unravel hose to water dying impatients. Hose goes nose grows Sue sews rose on Slow Joe's clothes. No, actually, that didn't happen.
8:11 pm: Give up on the hose. Decided to weed. Think about the efficiency of weeding in the near-dark. Decide to throw efficiency to the wind and weed like the dickens.
8:45 pm: Scratch mosquito bites. Walk into home. Babe is still squinting.
8:46 pm: Do a cost-benefit analysis of drinking a half glass of wine—glass half full, of course.
And you may ask yourself, well, how did I get here?
8:47 pm: Cost outweighed the benefit. Pour the wine anyway.
8:50 pm: Pick up the den.
9:00 pm: Return to computer.
9:14 pm: Blog. Work like the dickens.
10:18 pm: Think about the laundry that needs folding. Try to remember when I showered last.

Letting the days go by..