nonsensical text

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

loose screw bin

Remember the saga of the keys? I was planning on posting last night a sequel to that journey. Instead, I opted to stay up much too late IMing with two dear friends. Just as I sat down to write today, the husband came home from work, at 10 in the morning. It appears he got today and tomorrow off to compensate for working so many hours last week. He wouldn’t have had to go in today if someone had remembered to email him that the meeting was cancelled, but heck, everyone likes to spend three hours on the train for no reason, don’t they? Anyway, since he tends to frown upon me spending my time doing such frivolous things as typing drivel into the computer when there are 37 or so loads of laundry waiting to be done, I figured I’d put it off until later.

We all know that when a story first pops into the head it is usually in perfect form. It itches to be told. However, the longer something like that is tabled, the less entertaining it seems. I am having trouble mustering energy to post.


Yeah, that’s been a problem of mine for years. Now I feel I have to go through with it just because I mentioned it. Simply to assuage the arguments raging in my brain, I will comply, but only as a snippet. There’s far too much other random nonsense floating around in my imagination to concentrate solely on one subject (this could most likely be translated as, “Have you ever been checked for adult ADD?”).

So anyway, those keys:

Yesterday, I was trying to run out the door to go to my mother’s house with the kids. When it isn’t football or baseball season, we try to get over there on a weekly basis. I may have been procrastinating a bit since I knew she wanted us to help her move living room furniture (to see how it looked). I have a feeling we will be doing that for the next several visits. I noticed my keys had fallen deep into the bag I use as a diaper bag/purse/assorted carry-all. I decided that it would be best to remove them from this precarious location so as not to have a repeat of the key incident. My family never lets go of an old joke, you see. I placed the keys on top of the bag (or thought I did), but was then reminded of something else I had to do before leaving. Once all of the children were shod and jacketed, I returned to the bag. I carried it past my husband and S into the dining room. As I set it down on the table, I muttered, “Where are my keys?” to the delight of everyone. S and the dh seemed particularly entertained by my predicament.

As I retraced my steps, almost positive of where I had left them, S could barely contain his giggles. It was around this time that I connected with the more astute side of my being (a side which has been in hiding for some few weeks now). They were laughing just a little too hard. Yes, you guessed it. S had taken my keys and was hiding them about his person with my husband’s full knowledge and cooperation. I ask you, is that a fair and loving thing to do a woman approaching middle age?

Other nonsense:

I find myself wondering if the dog has a brain tumor. Basically, I might as well stop wondering. If it is that which is causing the seizures and not epilepsy, I will only find out by him passing away. The husband is not of a mind to do a CAT scan or MRI on a dog. Most likely he has just been finding new ways to throw his medicine up after swallowing, but the seizure activity has increased substantially lately. If I call the vet about it, they will just increase the meds. I honestly don’t think that will do the trick, since he seems to have seizures in clusters no matter what the level (he was on higher levels last year ).

Will my voice be strong enough to teach the children over the sounds of construction tomorrow (the side benefit of my man being home)? Will the force of my personality be strong enough to keep them focused when there is something interesting going on? Okay, I can answer that one in the negative. These kids of mine can be distracted by a commercial for genital herpes medication; there’s no way I will get 100% of them when Dad is home.

Will I remember my priorities and spend my typing time designing an official looking transcript for S tomorrow instead of satisfying my basic social needs? Nah, I doubt it – especially since it is still in the procrastinatable stage (for another 24 hours at least).

Will Batman and Robin get free from the swinging pendulum of fire? Will the Joker and Catwoman put an end to our dynamic duo once and for all? Tune in tomorrow: same bat time, same bat channel….


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