Which reminds me of a day in college, back when I was faithfully keeping a journal, and I wrote much the same thing: "Such a dull day, all I did was study, but surely something interesting happened. Let me see . . ." And upon musing, I noted, "Well, I took a shower with my friend Mark . . ."
This cracks me up so much. A nothing day . . . was just so very different, once upon a time.
("My friend Mark" was a guy on my hall. I was his RA. There was nothing romantic or sexual between us, he was just a buddy, and I'm pretty sure he was gay. But for some reason we decided to start showering together; I think we did it three or four times. How this idea ever came up in the first place, I could not tell you — and I don't particularly like being naked in front of people, or having people be naked in front of me, so it's even weirder than it already was, which is plenty weird already. Right?)
I did not take a shower with any random men today. Actually, I don't think I showered at all. Really, I have to comb the day for anything that wasn't sitting at my computer working:
- I met with my PTO co-president and declared my undying love for her son, Mac. (He's four. He has no interest in my undying love. A hard-to-get man . . . sooooo enticing!)
- I walked to Trader Joe's to buy dry food for my cats, and then climbed my hill carrying two heavy bags of groceries (I can never get just one thing at Trader Joe's). Huff, puff, pant.
- I didn't allot enough time to make homemade chili for dinner as planned, so we ate at our local Mexican joint and I had yummy fish tacos, and the four of us played a cut-throat game of Kings in the Corner. (Mimosa won. She almost always wins. Girl's a freak.)
- I watched How I Met Your Mother and Two Broke Girls with Mimosa, who kept sticking her icy feet in my hands, and she told me about a girl who shaved a yin and yang symbol into her pubic hair, and I told her that I cannot even imagine saying the phrase "pubic hair" to my mother, particularly when I was 14, and clearly I am raising her all wrong and she should stop growing up right now. She ignored me and shoved her feet in my hands again, I have failed as a parent, my eldest child is a lippy menace.
Everyone has been sick at my house for the past two weeks except me, and I think my extreme fatigue is my body's way of protecting itself: "Flee these germy people! Go to bed, you!"
I've been trying to watch Drive at night, but it puts me right to sleep. Well, there's my plan, then.
—Lady C, yawwwwnnnnning