I’ve been sooo busy this past week, in preparation for my in-laws’ 50th wedding anniversary, that I haven’t been on Facebook and I haven’t had time to write. (My apologies to any fellow Geminis I forgot to celebrate.) We were finishing up the final days of school, where I didn’t even have time to pee before the next event, and stressing over the last-minute details of a backyard party for 80. AND I had to work the night before. I have an event hangover. It’s been two days, and I’m still having it.
Veruca wants to do stuff, and all I want to do is climb back into bed and sleep for 8 days. But the good news? The house and yard still look fabulous. I want to write about all this stuff, but I have zero motivation. My brain is running at below 50%, I’m sure of it, because it’s being taxed overnight during the most bizarre dreams I’ve had since my lawyer appeared as the March Hare.
I want to run, but I’m weighed down this morning by the last piece of cake I ate for breakfast. Yeah- I did. And I don’t care. Both kids are still in bed. The dove living in my back woods has been calling for four solid days and, while usually I love the occasional sound for spiritual reasons, this morning I decided that it’s slowly driving me insane. It’s all I can do not to go out on my deck and tell it to SHUT the hell UP. But I’m afraid of the repercussions. See? I AM a little crazy.
We are having the most beautiful weather. The sun is shining, the breeze is cool, the windows are open, and just a lawn mower buzzing somewhere in the distance. And that g-damn dove.