Well, I was going to paint today; after I dropped off the kids, I was going to enjoy that last cup of coffee, savor the silence, and then hunker down to workin'.
The best laid plans...yadda yadda...
Enter, the 8 year old - he's home sick - cultivating his IBS symptoms for use later in life, no doubt. The Professor we dropped off at school - he is a stickler for being there (so NOT like me). So we headed for home, the Bohemian and I, to try and do some painting together.
Its just not in the cards today.
Upon arriving home, I see a message waiting for me on the phone - its Bea- she has thrown in the towel and is playing hookey, er...taking a Mental Health Day. The office is having another one of their "Stuff Your Face" festivals, which are relentlessly undermining to a diet, or even a healthy lifestyle. Ever the queen of Passive Aggressive, she Chose not to attend. If you're a fan of the film The Big Chill this will make perfect sense.
As much as I wanted to paint, the prospect of someone to play with is far more enticing - will we go out to lunch? It could happen - it is payday. Maybe even do a little shopping - that suburbian housewife hunter-gatherer ritual, though malls are out - its is my personal creed to never enter a mall or strip mall after Thanksgiving, until after the first of the year. I'm not superior - I just know that the odds of me killing someone go up drastically if I'm in a mall - I'd like to be home for the holidays, see...!
Ah! there she is - my partner in crime! Let the planning and plotting and general coffee consumption begin! (Unghhhh! I just had the thought of where to go for lunch, and get a really good cup of...."cappoocino, sweetie-darling" (Edina, Ab Fab)!!! Bea is groaning over my shoulder as I type this - is that a yes???
The Aftermath: Sobering Up In Carpool