TheMommyBlog

Friday, July 30, 2004 Me, Me, Me

I’m tired today. Brain: fried. Scalp: sunburned. Don’t wear your hair in braids on a long rafting trip unless you really do intend to triple the exposed area and make yourself cry each time you comb your hair.

I am in the office, trying to hose down the place before taking off for Belgium next week, where I hope I am still welcome at Amber’s; otherwise, I will have to acquire a sleeping bag, dreadlocks, and a ratty cardboard sign and spend my days spanging on the streets of Amsterdam.

I am really looking forward to having so much time on my own, though I will miss the kids terribly. I will not miss this office, or the yucky life-altering details I’ve been dealing with for the last few weeks. In an effort to soften the effects of a tedious session at the mediator’s and a final meet with the escrow company, I had a lovely, wine-fueled lunch at a sidewalk bistro with a friend. Best part of the day, by far.

The rest of the afternoon was spent closing the books on July, and kibbutzing with with dear, dear, drama-tinged, dear, dear, dear friends. You know who you are. I love you dearly but you will be the death of me! I cannot be in all places at once and kiss boo boos and soothe and pet and make things better like I want to, so if everyone could just dial back all misfortune, illness, and drama until I get back, that would be very nice. No yucky stuff allowed. Or, only allowed if I can actually help, or at least make you a drink. My heart can’t take this impotent desperation and worry.

After I mucked up my desk a bit, I played around with a request from Kim, my trusty font of bloggy ideas, and created a thumbnail gallery of all the pics currently in rotation on the little random pic generator over there on the left. It ain’t much, but it’s mine. Now you don’t have to refresh the page every ten seconds to see them all (OK, tj?)

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a Thomas the Tank Engine party to prepare for. By “prepare,” I mean, “go home and ask Gil if he needs any help with any of the last-minute details” since all I have done is buy Dylan’s presents.

::sigh::

I am such a sixties dad.