It's lost. I don't wear it often, and I need it for a soiree next Saturday night. I have rummaged through my closet and dresser (both of which are over full with clothes I don't wear often enough) and I can't find it. I hate it when my normally organized, tidy world gets a glitch in it. Especially when the cause of the glitch is me. Argh.
Nice weekend with my parents. I got to shop and do nothing with my mom for an afternoon, talk a lot, and see my kids with their grandparents, which always puts a smile on my face.
This week (and for all foreseeable weeks) my schedule is this:
Monday morning: cleaning house/doing laundry
Monday afternoon: volunteering
Tuesday morning: volunteering
Tuesday afternoon: at home
Wednesday morning: volunteering
Wednesday afternoon: at home
Thursday all day: volunteering
Friday: at home
And of course I have grand and glorious plans for getting things done around the house, which has to be accomplished in the relatively small amount of time I actually have at home. Add in any errand running I have, cooking meals, and general maintenance and upkeep on the house (the daily load of laundry, for example) and I have almost no time do to MY stuff. Man, I can't imagine how I'd get anything done if I had a real job. LOL
So, busy, busy, busy. The sun is shining, it's March, people! And I feel good. Plus, less than 2 weeks to Springsteen. Yay!
Mom, wife, daughter, sister, friend. Scrapbooker, family historian, reader, cook, photographer. Volunteer. Political junkie. Springsteen fan. Loves deeply, strives daily to be a cheerful, kind and generous person. Fails regularly. Snarky, judgy and more than a little blunt. Some people don't appreciate my style. If you're one of them, that's ok. Get your own blog.
I do often wonder how people who actually go out of their houses to do jobs for 30-40 (or even more) hours a week get their laundry done and toilets cleaned. I still struggle with that and I'm home all day!
ReplyDeleteWhen I've lost an article of clothing (in the house somewhere) I usually find it Andrew's (or Audrey's) closet. Apparently my husband can't tell the difference between my clothes and those which belong to the children.
ReplyDeleteSad indeed.