Saturday, October 8, 2011

sometimes your eyes gotta leak or you gotta shop or both

This morning Jack got up early, for a Saturday, and went to work.

Which left me with options. I got up and made myself a bowl of HoneyBuzzers--the Malt-o-Meal version of Honeycomb--so I could stomach a non-narcotic muscle relaxant. I allowed my eyes to gaze about at the heaps of debris on my counters (Jr had a party last night, so leftovers of cake and soda cans are intermixed with junk mail and stacked dirty dishes). I stopped to pick up my compy from the office and headed back to my bed where I have a clear view of the clean laundry that is not yet put away from last weekend, the dirty laundry awaiting my magical touch today, the empty diet coke bottles on the nightstands and surrounding the garbage can--I'm practicing my basketball shooting skills in an effort to heal the shoulder. I couldn't make myself go down the stairs--a combination of the my-poor-back issue and my unwillingness to look at the remnants of last night's party: pizza boxes, soda cans, furniture displaced from its normal location to allow much 'just dance 3-ing', and that damned fog machine.

I climbed back under my covers, leaning up against Jack's wedge pillow, and clicked around my favorite blogs, saving facebook for last. Jessie posted pics of Janey and Cailin that brought tears to my eyes--I miss them so--and I was reminded again that one of the reasons I like my grandkids around isn't so I can entertain them, but more because I am so touched by their personhoods--who they are, how creative, how funny, how smart--when I hear them playing together when they think no one is around. I am so grateful for frequent visits from Stu and Shi.

I stayed under the covers all morning, leaving only long enough to snag a piece of cake that I ate while finishing up all of this week's homework. My phone rang once, it was the tenants, the ones who always need something, so I didn't answer. They left a message--the upstairs shower seems to be leaking in their downstairs bathroom. Landlordship is like breeding dogs. Don't ever let yourself think you will make money from it.

And Oscar. Dear Oscar. Did he really just pee on the chair while I was laying in the bed next to it? Ah well. Another piece of furniture bites the dust.

So. Now that I've moped about, shed a few tears, finished my homework, and looked at this mess til I can look no more, it is time for me to rise, gather up and begin this week's laundry, clean out the kitty litter boxes, tidy up the bathroom and kitchen, hang up and put away that clean laundry, change the sheets, and patch the hole in my quilt that Gus chewed in it last week. If only he'd just chewed the hole instead of eating part of it too--would have been a much simpler, less noticeable repair.

And I'm going to watch for the UPS guy with my Kohl's order that includes this skirt, so I can figure out whether it's too cool outside to wear it

with these shoes

with the navy ruffle-front blouse I bought at Old Navy last weekend--can you wear espadrilles after Labor Day?

Shallow? I think not. New shoes and skirt and ruffly top make everybody feel happy, right?

1 comment:

Joey said...

It's always nice to have a slice of your life. :)