I don’t actually have anything to say about the election, but I needed a title and that seemed as good as any.

I don’t actually have anything to say about anything, but it’s been a couple days since I’ve posted and I am trying to keep the blog off life support, so I figured I’d just come over, open up the editor, start typing and see what shook out. How am I doing so far? Yeah, well, it’s only the second paragraph. Cut me some slack.

What. else. can. I. say…….. Hrmmmm. Nope, nothing’s coming. Man, writer’s block can be tricky, can’t it? But I just have to push my way through it, don’t I? I should write what I know. What do I know? I have to do a lot of laundry today. Specifically, I have to make sure Mister Bubby’s church clothes are clean because we’re taking him and Princess Zurg to the temple tonight. It’s kind of weird to think I have two kids old enough to go now. That makes me old. I already knew I was old, but somehow this is just extra-potent knowledge. I’m pretty sure Princess Zurg already has clean clothes. I should probably check, just to make sure. Actually, what I should do is move the load that’s in the washer into the dryer and put another load in. I should do that right now. I’d do it after I finished this post, but who knows if I ever will? I should seize the moment.

All right, moment seized. Back to the old grind. I will never understand how my mother-in-law sorts laundry. I speak of this because I was just removed a load from the dryer that must have been put in by her when she was here yesterday. Every time she comes over to watch the kids, she does some laundry. It’s nice of her. I appreciate it. She’s very good about following the care instructions (usually). But she does have the oddest laundry-sorting system. Sometimes she just washes a big load of whatever happens to be in the laundry room. Sometimes she washes a small load of kitchen towels and random socks, leaving the other things in the laundry room undisturbed. Sometimes she just washes all the orange things. Like I said, I don’t get it. But it is nice of her. I always say if your biggest problem with your mother-in-law is that she has inscrutable laundry-sorting habits, well, you’re doing better than most people. (I don’t think that is my biggest problem with her, but I don’t really have any big problems with her, so I may as well use the laundry thing as a symbol for the general harmony of our relationship.)

I should definitely take a shower today. I should do it now, actually. I should seize the moment, right? Maybe I will write better after I’m clean.

All right, now I am clean. Just waiting for my brilliance to shine through.

It may be a long wait.

So on Thursday we’re having a belated birthday party for Mister Bubby. He’s having three friends over to spend the night (since there’s no school on Friday). Two are his Numero Uno BFF that he’s had since the first grade and another friend that they mutually adopted, and the third is a boy MB’s been reasonably friendly with over the years because they go to church together, but really they’ve only bonded just recently over their mutual interest in Magic The Gathering. I have a sense that this third boy, while not disliked at all by the other two, may be viewed as a kind of interloper–a third wheel, if you will, in this quartet. The Numero Uno BFF has absolutely no interest in Magic The Gathering, a fact that I think has yet to set in on MB, who just can’t understand why anyone would not love Magic The Gathering. I also get the sense that might feel a little threatened by MB’s new friendship. Perhaps I am manufacturing drama where none exists. I can’t say I really understand boy friendships. Girl friendships always have drama, it seems. Perhaps it has made me paranoid. I really don’t like being paranoid. I don’t like being concerned either. I prefer to just stick my head in the sand, most of the time. Perhaps I should have called this blog “I am the Ostrich.” That would certainly be appropriate.

Except giraffes are cooler. You might say I’m a giraffe who prefers to keep her head up in the sky and never look at what’s happening down on the ground. That is certainly my preference. You might wonder how such an animal changed so many diapers for so many years. Well, it wasn’t easy, dear Internet. Even giraffes have to face reality. That’s me, the reluctant reality-facer. You might say that every time I try to bury my head in the sand, I realize, “Hey, I’m not an ostrich. I’m a giraffe.” Have you ever seen a giraffe with its head in the sand? Well, maybe you have, but that’s not me. I only wish it were.

I started out a little worried about my son and his relationships, but it turned into an identity crisis. That may be my one true gift: making everything about me. You know, the world is full of rich and famous narcissists. Why can’t I be one of them?

When school started and I suddenly had six hours a day to myself, I gave myself permission to just goof around like a ninny the first few weeks–because you spend fourteen years taking care of kids all day, you deserve a little ninny-break, I think. But it’s been a few weeks and now I’m feeling like I need a little more structure in my day. I should have goals. Goals bigger than “catch up on the laundry” and “remember to call the orthodontist.” Holy crap, I forgot to call the orthodontist. Well, I didn’t forget. I remembered yesterday, but the office was closed yesterday. I forgot to try again this morning. Seize the moment!

All right, moment seized. Where was I? Yes, goals. I thought I might try to do NaNoWriMo again this year. I have all this free time now, you see. When I’m not doing the laundry or calling the orthodontist or taking a shower. Do you know how much time it takes to take a shower? Not really all that much, technically, but then I have to get dressed afterwards, and it always seems to take much longer than it should. Why would that be so? Maybe because I’m avoiding writing my novel. Probably because I think the novel is a lost cause. But I have a lot of lost causes in my life. The laundry is one of them. I keep plugging away at that, though. And why? Because if I don’t, people complain that they don’t have any pants. Now, you might say people should do their own darn laundry, if they like having pants so much, and then I could use my now-non-laundry time to write my novel, but if you said that, you’d be missing the point, which is that I have all kinds of external motivations (in the form of annoying family members) to do laundry and only internal motivation (in the form of a disgruntled housewife who’s forgotten how to dream) to write a novel. Internal motivation just can’t compete with external motivation.

Unless it’s hunger. I just realized that I forgot to eat breakfast, and it’s almost time for lunch. Seize the moment! I will catch you crazy kids on the flip side (otherwise known as Wednesday…or maybe Thursday).


Since I didn’t provide you with any Election Day commentary, I thought I’d entertain you with a relevant YouTube clip from a classic movie starring Robert Redford back when he was young and hot.