In honor of the fact that I’ve been saying ‘what a week, right?’ since Monday evening, I’d like to offer a list of things which presented themselves to me today, and of which I decidedly did not take advantage.
Things I didn’t do today:
Hit someone at the crosswalk. Even though my car was fully stopped (by law) and he had the right-of-way (by law), he still felt the need to do that hands fully extended thing as he shuffled off to Buffalo at a positively glacial pace while giving me a look which clearly indicated he was doing God’s work, what with the parting of the Red Seas at Montrose and Kedzie and all. Again, I did not hit him (by law).
Eat gluten. Guess what’s easier than dieting? Avoiding food because it causes exceptional pain. It’s true! I haven’t been craving foods that I’ve always loved because I’ve finally realized I’m a lab rat in a cage and shocking yourself on a metal door/bowl of pasta effing hurts. That said, guess what makes me angrier/sadder than most choices I’ve ever made? Deciding to never again eat gluten.
Sit down on the floor of Unique Thrift Store and play toys with Suzy. This one’s a toughie; on one hand, the train she had going was crazy fun and it sounded like a pretty marvelous idea to shut out the world for a bit and pretend all I had on my agenda for the whole day was playing trains with my five year-old who’s- oh my God- about to go off to kindergarten in a flipping heartbeat- didn’t I just have her? What have I been doing these past five years? Is time just a big, fat joke designed to make me absolutely hate myself for missed chances, not to mention missed opportunities to bestow upon myself the superpower of constant Awareness and Meaningfulness with my children (<—which doesn’t exist, another entirely crappy fact about reality and my current day)?!
On the other hand, floors are pretty dirty. I definitely saw a kid throw part of a juice box near the toy aisle not five minutes prior. The decision stands.
Avoid blogging. Because, even though I’m clearly in some sort of special mood, I recently realized that I’m about to hit my 9-year blogging anniversary. Nine years. Of Thursday posts and inane topics and occasionally irate political ranting and theatrical whimsy and reviews for products so great I sometimes pinch myself. And even though the sky feels like it’s falling (in locations further from my house than the intersection of Montrose and Kedzie) and it’s been a banner five years with global crises and loved ones’ deaths, I know that I have this record. For almost nine years now, I’ve journaled events in my life which actually happened and for which I can be decently proud.
At the very least, my kids will be able to read back on this nonsense and say- “She tried. Man, it looks like she really tried.”
“…Except for that Thursday where she thought about hitting that dude in the crosswalk.”
So I wrote today, even if it’s only about the things I didn’t do (…but for the grace of God). And, just like my to-do list at the tail end of every day, it has to be enough for now.
Laundry. Sorry ’bout your luck, laundry pile.