Wednesday, March 27, 2013
A Day of Cray-Cray
My day opened with a coffee date at Blogger Dawn's house. I met her several years ago, right after the awesometastic Book Club Girl got the high school Betsy-Tacy books back into print, and Blogger Dawn was helping with promotion. She interviewed me and Brunie over tea at the Colonial Inn (I believe we actually drank tea at that event; since then, we've met at the Colonial Inn many times but have always slugged down cocktails), and I won't link to that interview because I am the size of a Winnebago in the accompanying photo. But I instantly pegged her as the kindredest of spirits and she's become a great friend — though, as is the case with so many of my great friends, I don't see her often enough.
But this morning I had a solid 90 minutes of her company; she plied me with excellent coffee and home-baked banana bread, and we talked of everything under the sun. It's a beautiful day, and soft light streamed through her gorgeous, multi-windowed Concord home. I left with four boxes of Girl Scout cookies and that happy glow you get after some good girlfriend time.
And then it was on to Math Practice, where not one, not two, but three of my kids wept through my math session!! And we actually did something relatively easy and fun today! In my first group, Princess Drama and Princess Entitlement were paired, never a good thing, and they almost came to blows — because Princess Entitlement used Princess Drama's pencil without asking, causing Princess Drama to weep copiously. As you do. In my second group, Marky-Mark was having a bad day and would barely lift his (wet) eyes from his paper. (The Princesses drive me bonkers, but Marky-Mark is one of my top-two favorite kids — not that I have favorites, of course not. I don't think his extreme sadness had anything to do with me, but still — seeing him so sad made my heart hurt.) Then I get to the third group, where two of my four kids slammed into their seats; JJ said bitterly, "This had better be a short class," and Tinkerbelle whined, "I don't waaaannnnt to beeeeee here."
At that point every one of my nerves was screaming for mercy, so I called the teacher over to give the group a pep talk/death threats, at which point my bitter boy shaped up somewhat, but my whiny T-belle dissolved into tears of wretchedness, from which there was no turning back. Oh, she stayed in the group and did her work, she just sobbed through the whole thing. I would say, "So, if there are two tens and two ones, what number is that, T-belle?", and she would sob, "Twenty-" sniffle sniffle, weep, "two?", tears dripping, dripping. Good times.
And then — remember how I said that I had four editing jobs floating in the ozone, and they'd probably all hit at once? Yeah, guess what was waiting for me when I got home? Not all four, but close — three of them. Busy busy busy, like I wasn't already.
Well, it's money, anyway, which as usual is sorely needed. I'll focus on that.
I just went for a long brisk walk and entertained the neighbors by singing lustily along with Avril Lavigne's "Girlfriend," ". . . and hell yeah I'm the motherf***ing princess!" It just fit my mood.
More to say, but I'm currently debating the merits of hot shower now and getting a jump on all my work vs. lift weights and work my core, which I haven't done since Saturday (then shower and work). Can't wait to see what wins. If you've got a vote, cast it now!
—Lady C, in a quandary
p.s. Despite zumba and a hot bath and not eating after 6:30 p.m., I'd lost nary a pound this morning, which is unusual for a post-zumba weigh-in.
Bloody cookie. I'm still bitter.
p.p.s. Katie, I know you're wondering: Glum Albie was a prince today. He didn't smile, of course, I think that would break his face, but he hung in there despite all the Girl Drama. Go figure.