I feel like I’m really reaching to find successes today. Yesterday kicked my butt for reasons I won’t go into here. I’m trying to reboot, a little, today.
It’s been a good week at work…I learned a couple of new things, (mostly) stuck with the workflow plan I designed for myself a couple of weeks ago, and saw a brainstorm come to fruition. It’s really cool to offer an idea and then be allowed to run with the ball.
Next week Hubs and I will be going to a long-term service awards dinner his company is hosting. That meant (eeek!) I have to dress up. My work-at-home/occasional-substitute-teacher/church-on-Sunday wardrobe isn’t going to cut it. I asked one of my folk-group friends for fashion advice because she always is beautifully dressed and looks so put together. She works part-time and offered to go shopping with me one afternoon. We had a fun time; I got a flowy sweater to go over my little black dress, a pencil skirt and blouse (which I’d never have chosen if I was shopping on my own) for TheKid’s graduation, and a pair of foot-friendly shoes–HALF PRICE. They’re too casual for the business dinner, but I can wear them just about everywhere else.
Speaking of graduation, yesterday I got a notice from the school asking for a photo for the “Guess the Graduate” bulletin board–always a fun feature! I dipped into the digital archives and found this gem. TheKid is more than OK with using this one.
I’m hoping for a better day today. And I won’t say no to a Memorare for a special intention, if you’re prayerfully-inclined. (Thanks!)
Last night TheKid had a rehearsal, which means that I got in at 9:30 after the Mom’s Taxi run. And then I sat down at my computer and decided to finish up some logo work for work. We’ve got a Virtual Progressive Dinner coming up and I wanted to make a special logo for each course.
So I created the last few logos and before I knew it, it was 11 PM (more than an hour after I like to get to sleep.)
I dreamed about working in Canva all.night.long.
When I went to wake up TheKid this morning, I told him about this, and he said to me, “You should have asked me what to dream about before you went to bed.”
“You can dream on demand?”
“Yeah. It’s easy.”
I don’t think I can do that. But I’m not going to be doing any graphic work or playing any word-puzzle games online before I go to sleep anymore, because when I do that kind of thing, it stays in my head all night. I’ll have to stick to reading novels after 9 PM.
Photo credit: ZanBeck (2013) via Flickr; modified in Canva by the author.
I’ve been doing a little tidying-up around the place, since it’s too cold to GO anywhere.
My refrigerator door has gone from MESS to MESSAGE CENTER. I have a whole basket of the things I removed: soccer-team-logo magnets that The Kid wants, a big SpiderMan magnet that I should really send to Mancub, a prayer card that my grandmother kept on HER refrigerator (yes, I inherited the Stuff My Grandmother Kept On Her Refrigerator Door and most of it moved straight to mine)…but they’re not going back on the fridge. Which means I must permanently get rid of some of it before TheKid gets home from school.
On Tuesday, TheKid and TheDad had Snow Days. I cleaned out the linen closet. Bye-bye, bag of cough drops from 2012 lurking in the back corner!
I’m all out of neat accomplishments. My limit seems to be 2 per week. But that’s better than 0 per week.
I also survived a half-day of middle-school substitute teaching on 30 minutes’ notice plus a seventh-grade sleepover capped off with a waffle-eating contest. The winner had 6. Perhaps Kelloggs would like to sponsor TheKid’s next sleepover…
After lamenting the fact that today’s snow day had fallen on Mardi Gras, thus depriving him and his classmates of donuts in “at least 3 classes,” he gleefully informed us that since he’s diabetic, he can have all the meat he wants, any time he wants.
“You don’t have to fast because you’re diabetic, but there’s nothing in diabetes that prevents you from abstaining from meat for a day,” we told him.
“Yes, there is,” he shot back. “BACON!”
I miss the good old days, when he voluntarily gave up sprinkles for Lent. Sacrifice is a much harder sell for a 12-year-old, especially one who already uses every ounce of self-discipline he has and measures his snacks instead of just blindly sticking his hand into the pretzel bag like all his friends get to do.