I had to reveal something pretty awful to the boy this past weekend:
“No, I’m not reading anything right now”
I am now, more or less (I’m on page 10 or so of The Worry Cure and my friend Julie gave me Shopaholic & Baby for my birthday), but it’s been a few weeks since I challenged myself with the printed word, if I don’t count word search magazines (it turns out I cannot do word searches while on car trips – something about it makes me vaguely car sick).
And I haven’t been watching as much TV (I gorged on Daily Show and Colbert Report over the weekend in a futile attempt to keep up), and I haven’t been on the treadmill. It’s beautiful outside when I get home – still sunny and everything – and I just can’t get motivated.
And we won’t even discuss the bag of mini powdered doughnuts. And the Skittles.
The house is a certified disaster, if I don’t include Gene’s office (which is an uncertified disaster). We had to take everything out of his office because the company that put in our closet re-did his office. So now there’s a filing cabinet in front of the TV (not blocking it, of course!). We have removed huge amounts of crap from our house in the last few days. The boy was very helpful at loading the back of the car for two separate trips to Goodwill. And we still had a huge stack of things for the Kidney Foundation, who came to the house today while I was at work.
I need some time to catch up on EVERYTHING. I am taking Friday afternoon off, if the stars align and I can finish the 8027s (Allocated Tip Report, due 2/28, extended to 3/30). Gene doesn’t get why I won’t take the afternoon off if this report isn’t done, but I just can’t. I think it’s a personal pride thing.