Today my youngest child is at preschool. A drop-off preschool. Like, I left her there and shut the door and walked away without her. It’s the first time in almost three years that I’ve had alone time in my house. Except for those rare occasions when my husband takes them both to the store or on a trash walk or something. But those don’t really count. I mean, they count, but they are merely brief opportunities to shower and pee in peace before the kids return. This, however – this is a three-hour freedom fest.
So here I sit. All by myself. So many things to do. So many projects to start. So many projects to finally finish.
Before I accomplish all of the things, I’m going to blast some of MY music. Music with swear words and inappropriate talk about naughty things.
Hmm I can’t find any super sweary songs, but I think there *might* be an F word somewhere on this album. That’ll do.
I should bake muffins. Yes! But I’ve only got three hours and I don’t want to spend it in the kitchen. I hate the kitchen.
I should refinish the new-but-used bed we got for my daughter. Yes! I’ll run to Lowes for supplies.
Now that I have the supplies I realize there’s no way in hell I’ll finish this in my remaining two hours. Screw it. Weekend project.
Maybe I should exercise. Or eat.
Where did all of these fruit flies come from? I wonder if I can kill them all while simultaneously clapping to the beat of the music. I’ll spend the next 2-7 minutes trying.
I suppose I should clean the kitchen. DAMN YOU, KITCHEN.
OMG I’ve only got one hour left. HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE? WHERE DID THE TIME GO? WHAT SHOULD I DO SO I FEEL LIKE I ACTUALLY ACCOMPLISHED SOMETHING????
I should write a blog post. What’s a blog post? Words escape me. Where are you, words? Writing makes me hungry.
I’m going to dig out those cookies I hid from the kids.
I miss my kids.
I ate too much.
I forgot to take a shower.