Someone's Got a Case of the Mondays!

Good-ish morning to you. I went to bed at 8 last night. Just curled up and left the kids eating dinner. I heard silverware falling, demands for drinks, refills, seconds. Ignored it all. At some point, M came in and answered the calls of the wild ones and put them to bed.
I am desperate not to run today. And S has music class. Another Mommy and Me activity. WHY? Look, I get that I don't want to spend every hour with my kids, but I am PAYING money for an instructor with (presumably) some interest in doing some activity with kids, so WHY do I have to participate? I always imagine alternate life me (attorney, skinny, living in an awesome loft in Vancouver, madly in love with my husband and eating exotic cuisine) watching real life me. ALM is so disappointed. She is wondering why any one would dance in such a way. She knows that children will grow and develop without knowing what the "percussion family" is by age 3. RLM isn't so thrilled either. RLM is thinking--I went to college. I used to be able to read a book, discuss it with my friends, analyze it in ways that grown ups do. I used to not call my peers grown ups. I used to listen to music in my car. Music that didn't mention frickin' farm animals every other verse. I used to listen to music that I like. RLM is in crisis this morning.
I know the only way to lose weight is to geton the treadmill and run. I have been running 3 miles every other day. I am currently trying to push the time under 33 minutes. My kids did a "craft" in my office yesterday while I was trying to figure out facebook. Unless their craft was to make confetti, I can't make heads or tails of it. I could pick that up instead of getting on the treadmill. Alternately, I could sit here for a while longer.
Also, I should consider feeding my family. M says the "diet starts today." As if my diet ever stops. I add alcohol to it occasionally, but I never eat more. Then there is the Mt Everest of laundry sitting in my bathroom. The kids, of course, have drawers full of clean clothes. I am rummaging past the granny undies reserved for periods to find something clean to wear. I have no clean clothes, even after I get the undies sitch resolved. If you see me today, don't comment on my clothes. I will either be exceedingly overdressed (hey, I wore this to a wedding last year, it's clean!) or wearing something that doesn't fit (I haven't been a size 6 for 6 years. I am sure these pants are in style. If I pin them, no one will notice they don't fit. OWWW. Except me.)