Oh Where, Oh Where Can She Be?

Hey, everybody!

Yeah, it’s been awfully quiet on this end; I always mean to post and then somehow it’s the next day and I’m wondering wtf just happened to 24 more hours.

On my way home from work I started really questioning myself about where my time is going, and the idea has turned into this post. I’m sure a lot of you can relate to what’s going on with me right now. I need more than manions, at this point. I need a full cabinet. Not like a liquor cabinet (although some days that would be so awesome) but a cabinet like a secretary of state and secretary of defense, et all, only secretary of laundry or the housekeeping czar, or chief grocery-shopping executive or secretary of fucking HELL this kitchen should be condemned. CONDEMNED, do you hear me?

Here’s a typical day in the life right now:

5:00AM – get up

5 – 5:20AM Bathroom, let the dog out, feed the fish and turtles. Feed the seven cats we currently have, four of whom are ours, and three are fosters that—let’s face it—we are probably stuck with for life because we’ve had them almost six months and WE. ARE. ATTACHED. Note that not one more task can be completed until they’re fed, or they conspire to herd me—and, if necessary—trip me until it’s done.

5:20 – 5:30AM Start the coffee, slug down enough water to splode a kidney or two, listen to the news, text with Mr. Silver about what part of the States he’s in on any given day.

5:30 – 6:00AM: Shower, get human, make breakfast to eat during commute, load up a tanker of coffee, and hustle out the door.

6:00AM – 2(ish)PM: Work. I never know what time I’ll get home. It could be one, sometimes it’s three. LOVE having a set schedule, right?

2 – 2:15 PM: Let dog out. Figure out how to play fetch with a dog who is playing keepaway instead.

2:15PM: Take His Royal Canineness for his ride(s), aka “running errands”. Start dinner and try desperately to remember which kid has to be where, and when they need to be there. (I’m pretty sure I spend at least ten minutes staring at the refrigerator calendar with a wtf-is-even-happening-anymore squint. Do I believe that staring at the problem will help me control it? Probably.)

Any time left over until 3:25 is writing, editing or formatting time. (Yes, I will be mothballing the formatting business soon. I have to choose between writing and formatting at this point, and writing wins.)

3:25 – 4:30PM Boys get home from school. Usually with half the town in tow. Hello chaos my old friend. Feed all of the faces, bully them about homework and cleaning their rooms and the yard which we all know they will never do.

4:30 – 5:30PM: Try to make it so that the Center for Disease Control doesn’t burn our house down. Also deliver children to work, rehearsal or wherever. Try not to get too pissy when they roll their eyes at me when I ask for the seventeenth time when I should pick them up. “God, Mom. I’ll just text you, all right?” They do not understand why this is not a satisfactory answer.

5:30PM – 7PM: Either try to get some exercise or practice flute or do something not completely useless. If I have formatting clients waiting on files, this is the rest of my work time. I’ve tried writing during this gap, but guess what happens soon as I sit down and try to turn the imagination on? Yeah, I’m face down asleep drooling into the keyboard about 15 minutes later.

Come 7PM, I know there’s no hope of productive brain activity. Usually I read, hang out with whichever kids are around, read to the dog, play laser tag with the cats, watch movies or just vegetate until 9 when no power on earth can keep me awake any longer.

And that’s my life, six days a week. Yes, I work six days a week. Saturday is a short day, and usually the ONLY day I ever get any writing done… if Mr. Silver isn’t home. That’s a whole other thing. I can’t wait until he’s back home for the summer.

Sunday is laundry day. No other work gets done on Sunday. Not because I’m observing the Sabbath or anything, believe me. More like there has to be one day in the week when I don’t work and don’t feel guilty about not working. Except of COURSE I feel guilty about not working, because, you know, American women are fucking crazy.

So that’s my life right now; not a lot of time for writing or editing, but I’m still making progress. There are four scenes in episode 14 that just… suck. One day soon I will figure out why I hate them so much, and how I’ll fix them. And speaking of which, I had best spend my final seventeen kid-free minutes working on that problem.

See you again soon(ish)!