I don't know what I did yesterday, but my sciatic nerve is pissed about it. It's that sort of back pain where you're thinking, "I'm all right. I'm all right. I'm all right. I'm gonna die." The twinge that goes front my lower back through my butt cheek and all the way down to my toe in one leg is like fingernails down the chalk board.
And, as it turns out, pain, like decaf, unfilled scripts, cold, hot, sobriety, laundry, dinner, global tequila shortages, and children makes me cranky. And of course, once I have a pain, my children are drawn to it like magnets. Carry me. Hold me. Let me jump on you as though you had springs. So much so, that by the time I took S to school this morning, smoke was coming out of my ears like in the cartoons.
But, on the pro- side, I have very little to do today. I need to mail our holiday/Christmas/Hanukah/Festivus cards. I am out of the current value stamp. What is it now, $3.60 to mail a card? Which means I have to go to the post office if I want the cards mailed in a timely fashion. Or, I could have the post office deliver stamps, but I am sure you can predict that outcome: Festivus cards delivered in February. Sos, that's like what, 2 hours right there?Then, I absolutely must remove my nail polish. Yah, you're thinking, "we've all got problems lady. Global economic collapse, billion dollar bailouts, cholera in Africa. Go take off your nail polish." I didn't say I had an IMPORTANT day, so get off me. I had delusions of being somebody who could manage dark nail polish. But as it turns out, dishes, laundry, cleaning out files, and giving kids baths is way bad for the manicure. Back to clear post haste before some one mistakes these hands for those of some one far trashier than I. On the fun side, I am also joining MK and her daughter and Mother in law for the evening. I think it is a year end celebration of women at her church. Which means I have to move from hypothetically shaving my legs to actually shaving my legs. It's a change in philosophy for me. Actualization or something. Not that her church requires leg shaving, but if she has selected me to join the 3 generations of women in her family on this occasion, I will probably go ahead and not embarrass myself.
I also have to finish laundry, make beds, and run some stuff down to Goodwill.
So, I better get a move on. That nail polish could take a while.
I have a church funny. G saw the sign by her school for Clear Water Church and the name puzzled her. Clear water instead of dirty water church she says. Then the joke went on. How about fruit punch and Donut church. That she could do. Thomas the train church for J. Coffee church for mommy. Workout church for Daddy. Too funny. We were in stitches by the time she got out of the car in carpool line. I could see her still giggling on her way to the door.
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