Up at O Dark Thirty cause I got a kid who’s like I know I’m an honor student and the only freshman cellist in symphony, but I also want to be a swimming and diving champion, because exercise is good for stress. Hey, do you have any volunteer work available? I don’t feel adequate pressure about being the very best me I can be. I’m halfway to thirty! Does this student planner make me look sleepless enough? Also, got any carbs? I’ve only consumed 2500 calories and a liter of water and I’ve got the PSAT and a two-hour rehearsal tonight…
Gee, I can’t imagine why so many kids are anxious and depressed.
I’m not complaining about anything other than the early morning. Lack of sleep is bad for my anxiety.
The Mister and I get it, cause we’re Type A.
These things manifest in assorted ways. You wouldn’t suspect his Type A-ness at home. Around here, he’s basically a sofa-sitting chocolate-eating depressive who snarks til we all pee our pants with laughter.
At work, well, “BUT WAS IT PERFECT, KAREN?”
Meanwhile, I’m sincerely trying to relax, but I don’t know how and I have to pee again and I wanted the soda but there were 35 milligrams of caffeine in it and I’m not shaking, the earth is moving! And now I won’t be relaxed until ten minutes before my alarm goes off the next morning.
I’m funny in that way that’s like, “What’s beeping? Oh shit, I think the pies are on fire! Hey, did anyone give the cats dinner?” Then I give the cats dinner, and I see dust bunnies under the baker’s rack and well, since I’ve got a broom in hand, may as well sweep the back hallway and since I’m in the hallway, may as well throw in a load of wash, and since I’m already in the back of the house, maybe I’ll…
Really, what is relaxing? You mean like meditation? I meditate. Non? Not like that?
How much were The Mister and I home during high school? Uh, about never.
I remember one time in high school, I helped my mother fold laundry — not my laundry, mind you, I did my own laundry — but I helped her fold her laundry. It shocked the shit out of her, and she thought I was buttering her up for something. In reality I needed her to drive me somewhere and I knew she wasn’t gonna leave the laundry to wrinkle, because like mother like daughter, so you know, if I wanted to get there, I had to step up and fold with her. I couldn’t very well scream, “Fold faster, Woman!”
I will drive to schools Five More Times today. One of those is a combined trip, though, so that’s nice. Isn’t that nice?
Dinner is at 9pm.
Course, we should really all be in bed by 9pm, on accounta the O Dark Thirty and all…
No, not like that, clap your hands like a cheerleader.
Time for Trip Number Two.