I know, I'm such an upper! You are so excited to be here!
It's raining. It's Tuesday. I'm hungry. Everything outside is grey, except for the brilliant, changing leaves. I'd like to muse a little on the beauty of the leaves, but I'm still hungry. And it's still raining, and also? Not Wednesday yet.
Also? I'm tired. Really, really tired down into my bones. I know I ought to be tired, I just had this conversation with my MIL. No curse words in sight, thankyouverymuch, as I was not dumping gross things all over myself.
Her take? OF COURSE you are tired, you should be tired, you make me tired looking at you.
My take? Yeah, but I feel like I'm tireder than I should be. Way more tireder. And my hair is falling out in the shower, not that I actually shower all that frequently, but when I do? Man, those guys are outtathere like the Yankees.
Heh. The Yankees didn't purchase their way to the top of the heap this year. Nanna-nanna-boo-boo. Did they even make it *to* the heap? And while I'm here, I cannot even SAY how happy I am that Manny Ramirez is no longer a Red Sox. Red Sock. Glad. Me. Me glad. Not as cheery as I am about knowing that the Yankees are sitting on their couches, itching their, umm, selves, where I can't see them during the playoffs and the Series.
I? Am still hungry. And yet? Too tired to make a sandwich. But not too tired to whine about it. Just like the children. They are often too tired for life itself, but somehow they manage to spend energy into a deficit that rivals the one our country continues to foster.
It makes me tired just to think about how a person can operate so loudly and quickly on an absence of energy. How do they do it? Those odd little people baffle me.
I am going to forage for a bologna sandwich in my kitchen. And then I will throw some chicken, barbeque sauce, and honey in a pan, and some cabbage in another pan, and some potatoes and carrots in the oven to roast.
That is my Big Plan.
And I will not forget to be outside to get Miss O off the bus.
The End.
WAIT..... I just want you to know that I, ummm, well, never mind. I can't remember.
It's raining. It's Tuesday. I'm hungry. Everything outside is grey, except for the brilliant, changing leaves. I'd like to muse a little on the beauty of the leaves, but I'm still hungry. And it's still raining, and also? Not Wednesday yet.
Also? I'm tired. Really, really tired down into my bones. I know I ought to be tired, I just had this conversation with my MIL. No curse words in sight, thankyouverymuch, as I was not dumping gross things all over myself.
Her take? OF COURSE you are tired, you should be tired, you make me tired looking at you.
My take? Yeah, but I feel like I'm tireder than I should be. Way more tireder. And my hair is falling out in the shower, not that I actually shower all that frequently, but when I do? Man, those guys are outtathere like the Yankees.
Heh. The Yankees didn't purchase their way to the top of the heap this year. Nanna-nanna-boo-boo. Did they even make it *to* the heap? And while I'm here, I cannot even SAY how happy I am that Manny Ramirez is no longer a Red Sox. Red Sock. Glad. Me. Me glad. Not as cheery as I am about knowing that the Yankees are sitting on their couches, itching their, umm, selves, where I can't see them during the playoffs and the Series.
I? Am still hungry. And yet? Too tired to make a sandwich. But not too tired to whine about it. Just like the children. They are often too tired for life itself, but somehow they manage to spend energy into a deficit that rivals the one our country continues to foster.
It makes me tired just to think about how a person can operate so loudly and quickly on an absence of energy. How do they do it? Those odd little people baffle me.
I am going to forage for a bologna sandwich in my kitchen. And then I will throw some chicken, barbeque sauce, and honey in a pan, and some cabbage in another pan, and some potatoes and carrots in the oven to roast.
That is my Big Plan.
And I will not forget to be outside to get Miss O off the bus.
The End.
WAIT..... I just want you to know that I, ummm, well, never mind. I can't remember.
well, if you remember?.. i'll be waiting.
ReplyDeletei actually quite enjoyed our second rainy fall day in a row.. i get sick of sunshine. i guess i'm just that kind of girl.
i made chilli, and corn muffins.. how's that for a rainy day dinner.
and now my 2yo's butt is breathing up a storm.
That was one heck of a dinner for how exhausted the chef was. And a good lunch too, and a good what-I'm-going-to-eat-when-I-finish-typing.
ReplyDeleteChurchpunkmom- you're funny. Thanks for the laugh. And Pamela? You cook too good. Stop shaming the rest of us supposed-to-be-cooking-good-things-for-our-families people and take a bleeping nap. A long one where you can't prep for dinner so you HAVE to eat cake instead. That's what I'd do.
ReplyDeleteXOXO
Joce
I cook too good like an OCD person. Why? Because I hate bad food. I really, really, really want to enjoy what I eat, and I get SO CRAZY DISAPPOINTED when the food is bad. I need my sustenance to be satisfying. Need. And I will do whatever I can to enjoy my dinner.
ReplyDelete