Tuesday, March 04, 2008

Tuesday Night in Suburbia

There are days to cook. That was yesterday. 6 hours making chicken pot pies. Not including clean-up.

There are days to lie about in bed and read novels you are mildly embarrassed to name on your blog. I'm still waiting for an entire day of that, but I carve out time for the embarrassing novel or two. They aren't collecting dust.

There are days to go out for ice cream with your OBGYN. (Well, not mine exactly, just the one who delivered Tommy on May 19, 2006 because the real one was at Les Miserables. That was the night I decided that epidurals were maybe overrated. Which they are not. It was far too late, though, when I decided I had been so totally, terribly wrong. In between these momentous decisions, I screamed a great deal, not thinking I would ever see any of these people again...socially.) That day was Saturday.

There are days to clean. That was today.

I am sleepy.
My throat hurts.
I need a bath in my clean tub.
Maybe some Paula Deen brownies from the freezer.
Then bed.
Maybe about 500 mg of Tylenol and a little Anita Shreve "A Wedding in December" to wash it down.

NONONO.I need to stop dreaming so big. Ross has a non-fiction book report on ice hockey due tomorrow.
I think I'd rather take a puck to the head.

Last night was much the same. I shut it down about 7:30, all tucked into my bed, teeth brushed, jammies donned, then realized I didn't have the remote control and Baywatch was starting. I secretly pride myself on having NEVER watched even a single episode of Baywatch. Not even 2 minutes in row. I was so sleepy, though. I was feverish. Almost paralyzed, really. I could easily have let myself be lulled to sleep by the soothing voice of David Hasselhoff. But I didn't. I was able rouse myself enough to roll out of bed and flip it to PBS. I was rewarded with Rick Steves travels in Bath and York. I fell asleep somewhere in his descriptions of the amazing Georgian architecture. Which goes to show how tired and sick I really was. I have a not-so-secret crush on Rick Steves. Ask anybody. (But don't ask Jen. She thinks my RickWatch has a dark side,and that I read Rick's blog so I can evilly stalk him in distant and exotic locales, with plans to do him bodily harm. FYI, Rick was all the way over in Italy this summer while we were in London and Paris. Which I thinks proves my lack of evil intent.

Jake had a computer guy with an orange tie come over this morning and configure things so all our 5 computers (even the geezerly, won't-run-the-webkinz one, plus one not plugged in) will play nice and print wirelessly. He also did something to make the network stronger so we can watch netflix movies on the laptop in the bedroom without the troublesome pauses. Important stuff. Thanks, Jake. You are right. There aren't words or room enough on this blog to thanks you properly. Maybe I'll have to share the brownies with you later.

There are also days for washing stinky clothes. That's tomorrow.


jt said...

Sorry about the obgyn date the other night. just happened that way. and get better.

2006 yes, that is the year we were fat butterballs together. :) can't believe they are going to be two already!

Sue said...

Being sick sucks. Being sick as a mom, REALLY sucks. Hope you get feeling better soon.

sarinahbrooks said...

Screw on the smile and go baby - if you need any hockey stuff, call we are from the land of missing teeth thanks to the sport!

Lizzie said...

I just got done being sick. It is no fun having to go to work and try to have a smile all day while talking to people on the phone (who by the way really do not want to talk to you) while your head is pounding. instead of novels I turn on a sappy chick flick.

Jill said...

You make everyday boring chores seem exciting! What a talent. My friend Stacy, in Wisconsin, loves to read your blog. She calls me laughing and tells me I have to read it. Thanks for the entertainment. You are great.