And We Lived Beneath the Waves

My work week increased by five theoretical hours last week, which translated to five actual new hours this week. I'm not complaining. Honestly, I can't muster the attention span to formulate a complaint. I languished two invigorating days with a fever, holding up my hand and miscounting my fingers. Sometime soon, I'll add a new family member to my shopping list, and with any luck, one day he and I can shop online for motherboards, machine parts and amorphous goo - all of which will render UPS safety geeks speechless. It's going to take cash. I'm saving up.

On the other hand, I don't know where the last two weeks went. I wake up in the morning behind the chore chart eight ball, and I don't know where I can wedge in time for exercise or housework. My apartment is not spotless. It's actually quite spotty. I do not approve! Worse: I'm having trouble concentrating on writing. A little side project I've been working on languishes. Today, I decided: that's enough of that! What of that project is ready to go should go, and I should quit standing around with my mind blank. That's only funny in the funny pages.

Monday, I go back to the orthodontist after an absence of about six months. At the orthodontist's office, I am a celebrity! I am loved and admired because I am happy and bring treats. I love my straight teeth and make jokes, but teeth do not stay where we put them and my teeth are making more moves than Allied Van Lines. Thus, I am baking oatmeal cookies with chocolate chips and walnuts.



Bon appetit!