Waiting for Peapod to deliver the groceries. Not what you want to be doing at 8:20 on a Tuesday, but all in all, not much else to do since it is a Tuesday. Making dinner would have been nice, but no food, so we are eating grocery store square pizza slices. You know, the kind that tastes like cardboard topped with sugary tomatoes and glue.
The dogs, ah, the dogs. We are trying to keep them home more and at the expensive daycare less. We have a dogwalker that is half the price of daycare, but on a price per hour, about ten times the cost of daycare. Bella Sera is cool with it. She's all like, I don't need no stinkin' day care, I'm a big girl. She prefers not to be surrounded by even more loud dogs. Cucciolo? Let's just say if you called mefrom 7:30 and 8:00 and I did not answer, it would be because he was barking so loudly the windows were shaking. Seriously.
Mr. Pom's been working 7 days a week and then took a trip to the Cape by himself. So, the back of Mr. Pom, it is hurting and he is walking stooped over and like Tim Conway's 100 year old man. (Don't make me link to it; you know how to google and I'm too tired.)
Meanswhile, my office has decided that we need to cover eveyr case in every court that ever is or will be filed in the State of New York. Or so it seems. So when I am sitting here waiting for Peapod, I should be writing reports. But come on, I'm t-i-r-e-d.
In between, Micalengela doesn't feel well, so I spent the first half of the evening with an eye on the clock in case I needed to catch an Amtrak at 9:30. Thankfully, she's feeling better and is texting me from the college cafe to approve what she is ordering for a late dinner so as not to order anything that will make her feel ill again.
The Princess came in and mumbled something about whether there's any dinner, and then headed upstairs to collapse in her room after her grad school class and all day with four year olds.
So, all in all, that's a long way of saying that the weekend was way too short and we are lobbying Tracy to allow us weeklong retreats. Preferably with 3 meals a day, of course, of delicious soups and salads, bread, and homemade desserts.For the rest of the year. Please.
I made a mermaid, or a start of a mermaid. You know I'm writing about mermaids, but not about any mermaids you've ever read about. Consequently my choice of mermaid ...er, apparel, was met with some skepticism. But it will all make sense once the book is published, finished, written.
Wednesday night will be better. We will have food to cook so there will be dinner. The dogs will be exhausted from being with 15 other dogs in a big gym all day. Mr. Pom's back will probably be better. Micalengela will be on her feet and about to get the care package I sent.
I will do some embroidery on my mermaid's head and maybe by the weekend it will be done and I will show you.
See how interesting my life is? This blog writing is tough stuff. It's not all branding and ads and - well, at least not on my blog, much to my chagrin. But really, who needs the pressure??
