Tuesday, March 29, 2011

I want to blast through the walls just to feel the dry wall embedded in my skin

It's March 29. Something about this date nags at me, but I don't have a clue what I'm missing. This week feels like it's rushing by already though it's only Tuesday. My daughter is at her dad's until Thursday after school, but I feel as if she is already here, her energy seeping into the walls. The walls need dusting. Her pure energy would feel much stronger if I dusted the walls.

I've been ticking things off my mental "to do" list today:

- ordered Black Swan for my girl's friend (a personal gift from me to her)
- paid mortgage
- paid phone bill
- delivered meatballs and sauce to the girl's father's refrigerator
- left him a piece of mail I got by mistake
- and a check
- for something
- I should have been covering for eight years
- or all along
- pet his cat
- shocked his cat when I pet him
- talked to his purring cat
- and told him he only looked fat to me
- because my cat is too scrawny
- left and locked up
- charged my cell phone in the car
- returned here and pet my own cat
- who now eats
- but will still be scrawny

I have to finish typing up the minutes from the last band booster meeting. I'm way behind. The next meeting is next Monday, earlier than usual because the band is leaving April 11 for Disney, where they will march and play at Epcot Center, then play and play and play (as in have fun) for most of the week. I took pages and pages and pages of notes (I should just put in the number of pages, but if I count them, I'll feel like going back to bed). I think I'm more than halfway through, but maybe not.

I'll finish up the minutes, send them off, fold some laundry, write a poem about writing application essays or write a poem that is an application essay as my friend Laura suggested I do (already started that)....

You know, there's nothing to see here.
Move along.

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