Folks, I have gone from 0 to 60 in a matter of a few sleeps. Or rather, 25 to 60 since I wasn’t totally coasting before. (Fact: I was pretty much coasting before.) Somehow I’ve gone from one super part-time job and a for-fun blog to three jobs and a blog I’m hoping brings in a little bank. Add that to hosting Thanksgiving, 14 house projects I can’t seem to make time for, and the god-bless-it family yearbooks from years two and three that continue to weigh over me.
Oh, and there’s the baby who is officially at “Shelf Level Two Destruction” status and a husband who’s just too nice.
After one official day of work (more on that tomorrow), I sprinted through the weekend popping down tasks as they arose. “Cleaned” for a surprise house guest, enjoyed an awesome day date with Randy and some friends, taught my two classes, went to the grocery, etc. Then at 3 pm Sunday afternoon, my body shut down. I asked Randy if I could take a short little nap to get my energy back. He abliged and two hours later (!!), I came back downstairs. (See above: he’s too nice!) I’d like to say that made me all better, but I was still achy and so tired (and now super guilty) I went to bed at 9pm.
I woke up early yesterday morning and decided to make to do lists since I couldn’t sleep. Then it hit me – I have so many balls in the air without a time management gameplan, no wonder my physical body is fighting my brain.
So OK, I made the lists and started tackling them one by one. Eggroll napped decent and played by herself, so I was able to get a lot out of the way Monday morning. In the afternoon we had a vet appointment to have Noah checked out for a dental cleaning. Dude has the worst case of $hit breath (which shouldn’t be surprising considering he actually eats rabbit poo…), so we figured its time for the big guns.
Noah’s mom is a princess who will only let him see one doctor, so we had to drive all the way out to Waukesha just as the first snow of the season came down. Shoulders tensed firmly up by my ears, we were off. We get there, the doc makes us wait, he looks at the teeth and says “yeh, we don’t know how bad it will be, but on first blush, I don’t think we’ll have to remove any teeth.”
Great. And while Noah is riding the novocain super highway, can you also X-ray his back leg we discussed earlier this year?
Sure.
(INSERT LOTS AND LOTS OF MEDICAL LINGO I DIDN’T REALLY UNDERSTAND, BUT AN INFERENCE THAT CAME ACROSS PERFECTLY…)
So what I’m hearing doc, is you don’t think an X-ray is going to show much.
Nope, it’s all four paws so it might be a brain tumor. How about those Packers, eh?
Eh.
I really don’t think that is the issue, or if it is, that its as bad as it sounds. Dude rolls over his toes, but he eats, drinks, sleeps, plays and poos just like he’s supposed to. Still, hearing a doctor say something about dog brain tumors in relation to your furry little man is not the answer to “we will figure out this new level of life stress” problem.
That’s it. Sorry this post is kind of whiny and pointless. Sometimes you get gems, other times rants. Blame it on the to-do list and the distractions of impending pies and Christmas decorations.
Randy left this morning with a “yah, two day work week!” Gosh, I wish I could say the same.
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