"I think you're losing your marbles sometimes!" Sean said this to me in the most serious tone. We were gassing up the car for a six plus hour drive back to Pennsylvania for a family wedding. Lola was digging into her bag of crayons and coloring books and Gibson was entertaining himself with his Pup Pup Blanket.
"Didn't we talk about this just a few weeks ago?" Sean asked the gas attendant to fill the Volvo with medium grade gas. "Regular is fine." I said. "Michelle, you don't use regular. It even says so in the manual. How long have you been using regular!?" I felt like an idiot. The attendant gave me side glance as he squeegeed the front window.
From the backseat, "Daddy it's OK, Mommy can use the gas she wants and you can use your gas." Lola, always the diplomat. I use regular grade. It's ten cents cheaper. Mia Culpa!
Some days I do think I'm losing my marbles. I've gotten out of a schedule. I have my mom schedule. I do that in my sleep. I miss the good old days of going to work, getting dressed, putting on makeup, thinking about a great outfit to wear with heels, get in your car and drive, paycheck kind of work schedule.
I had an eight o'clock doctor appointment this morning. At least I thought it was this morning. I woke Lola and hurried her into her clothes, brushed her teeth and hair and we were out the door and on our way to school. With five minutes to spare I arrived at the medical building. I gave the receptionist my name and doctor name. He looked perplexed. "You scheduled this when?" Sometime last week for allergy troubles. "Well, it looks like you're early. About a week early. Your appointment is for Monday the 26th." Expletives went off in my head, a real fire cracker Fourth of July kind of pop, explode tirade of curses.
I arrived back home within 20 minutes. Sean was dressed for work and feeding Gibson scrambled eggs. "My appointment is for NEXT Monday." I sat down with a cup of coffee. Poor Lo, I rushed her out of the house frantic so as not to be late for a non existing appointment with a doctor I see maybe twice a year. Sean suggested I keep a daily planner so I don't "lose track of my days." "I don't lose track of my days, I know perfectly well what day it is!" He made it sound as if I spend my days in a TV induced, hazy swell of pajamas and cheap paperbacks, lounging on the sofa, leering at the park maintenance men when they mow the common.
It's Tuesday, or wait Wednesday? I have to take the car in for service. There's a funky smell and I think the air filter needs changed. The furnace guy is coming for yearly maintenance and I need to touch base with our squirrel guy and make sure our attic is pest free. I have to call a party rental place for a helium tank for Lola's Halloween party and make a call to Newman's vet to have his Prozac filled. The kid's rooms need cleaned and sheets off the beds to be laundered. I have clothes to drop off at the Salvation Army Thrift Store. I vacuumed yesterday but it still looks like a bomb went off in the living room.
Daily planner....I don't need no stinking planner!
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