I found myself doing the thousand-yard stare into space in the middle of writing down a grocery list the other day, and when I came back to Earth, I realized that I'm rapidly approaching the point where my brain simply refuses to hold any more data.
Which, of course, sends out the bat-signal to my husband's work, letting them know it's time for him to go on a week-long business trip. He's across the country, doing Business Things, and I'm holding down the fort, helping with homework, switching loads of laundry from the washer to the dryer, making lunches and juggling emails and conference calls. It's not surprising that I'm a little dull right now.
Also, that dull is pronounced Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhll.
This morning, the skies were foggy and I just wanted to burrow under the covers, rather than wake up the yahoos and point them towards the breakfast table. They are still struggling with getting to sleep at a decent hour, after letting them stay up late all summer, and we all pay for it in the morning. Don't get me wrong, they are headed towards bed by 8, 8:30 at the latest, but then somehow they all take turns having to pee, getting a drink, remembering that thing that is in the other bedroom that they need, wanting to read one more chapter, and it's 9:30 and I'm exasperated and wanting nothing more than to have a silent house.
I realize, of course, that I'll miss the noise and the chaos when they are all grown but right now? I just want a few minutes of peace at the end of the day to stare at the TV or read something ridiculous without hearing gremlins gnawing on the bunkbeds or water running when no water should be running.
Saturday was our 12th wedding anniversary, which is surreal. We celebrated with coffee in the kitchen, and then I went to get my hair done. Not the most romantic of ways to spend the day, but at least my hair looks great, thanks to my stylist, Sohier, who always manages to work magic on the four hairs left on my shedding head. Back at home, we planned for a dinner out with the two youngest kids, and ate chocolates and bought my husband a new iPod touch.
Of course, with the new iPod, you can do that Face Time thing between his iPod and my iPhone, so there might have been some fairly raunchy video messaging between the kitchen and the bedroom. I mean, maybe. If people who have been married for 12 years do that kind of thing.
My oldest had a sleepover party this weekend, too, and came home burning with the need for a pair of gerbils. She's so going to be one of those people you see on those pet hoarder shows. I don't even know what to do with her. I told her that a dog, cat and two fish are enough pets for our family. We've got a bad track record with rodents. She's continuing to make lists and pout and rage and design custom habitats based on the best Wikipedia has to offer.
We took my son and two friends back to Driven Raceway to drive carts in honor of his birthday last week, and they had a great time. My son even drove sort-of fast, although he claims his car was broken and was "making him go fast." Someone is unclear on the concept, I think.
I need a day off something fierce, and my recent promotion at work has kept my brain locked in the on-position, even when I sleep, turning my dreams into surreal to-do lists. The weekend is coming. The husband will be back home. I am already planning to spend a few hours in silent contemplation. Probably of my laundry pile.