I had really hoped to blog about something interesting but life is getting in the way so it's just a few things today.

  • Work is kicking my butt. I have bruises. Technical writing is a boring, boring thing. Fixing someone else's attempt at technical writing is like living in the 7th ring of Hell. My grammar police siren has been going off all day. So now I have a migraine.
  • Shaggy is in an awesome Accelerated History class. Every year they do this historical reenactment of the Constitutional Convention. His teacher rocks. That was yesterday. Today, I get a piece of paper informing me that I have one week to come up with a Colonial costume for my kid. One. Week. In the June Cleaver age of stay at home parenting, this might not have been a big deal. I am not June Cleaver. I work 50 hours a week. Sure I work from home most days of the week and, Yeah, I multi-task like a tasmanian devil on Ritalin... but I don't know a Soul who can work and sew at the same time. Stinkers. She is not on my People Who Rock list any more. She's on the Frutibat list now. I wrote a note beneath the parent signature to tell her as much.
  • Though I had a momentary meltdown regarding this costume I quickly recovered and, using my genius intellect, found a solution which involves minimal sewing. Really, the teacher is lucky in this respect. When I was a kid I rode horses in shows. A saddleseat show outfit can pretty much double as Colonial costume. And GypsyRose (who also rode) kept our old outfit. SHE ROCKS. Since Shaggy is just an inch taller than me (and has no boobs), I'm pretty sure this will work. I'll just have to cut off the legs of the pants and get him a wig and white stockings.
  • The thought of my almost-fourteen year old son in stockings.... is freaking hilarious and probably saved most of my day.
  • There was still some day that was past saving. Mostly, this involved spawnlings interrupting me while I worked to force me into mediating their current argument (which consisted mostly of them both telling each other to "Shut Up"... something I detest in general).
  • I called Mr. Clean at work, broke down in dramatic sobbing out of the blue and informed him I would surely DIE a horrible messy death if he did not bring me a Venti Non-Fat Peppermint Mocha (no whip) from Starbucks on his way home.
  • I then called back to apologize for sobbing on the phone like that... and then began sobbing again because I'm such a horrible person for calling my husband and sobbing for a COFFEE.
  • I have since concluded that PMS has Entered The Building.
  • Doodlebug just found a set of jinglebells that fit around his wrist and is polluting the house with NOISE. Jinglebells and PMS do not make good bedfellows.
  • But now I have coffee so it's all good.
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