At this point, Brent returned from walking Cricket, so I don’t know if I would have succeeded at saving the world through literature, but because it is Tuesday and the world is still out there, if a little on the cloudy and gloomy side, I’ll assume I did. That seems like plenty to accomplish in a day, so I’ll be on the couch eating bon-bons and reading until tomorrow.
Except that T.R. has an end-of-year band concert. Today. At 1. And, even though I am the Meanest Mom in the Entire Universe, I think I could possibly redeem myself if I could just Try Harder. (One of my favorite New Yorker cartoons from forever ago was a set of Bad Mother trading cards, including one who never even tried to make play dough from scratch…)
And there is always laundry. Not to mention dust. Should I say anything about the pile of unfinished writing? Shh… maybe it will just go away if I ignore it.
Oh, yes, and email. One from church about when I will be away for the next months so Linda can schedule me to read at a time when I will actually be present. I am entertained at the idea of reading when I am not present; the congregation could just read to themselves and imagine that I was there, doing it much faster than they would like. A little too avant-garde for the 8 o’clock 1928 Prayer Book crowd. Linda, herself, is trying to schedule a time to be Not There, and so I also wanted to add my name to the list of potential Xerox monitors and phone triage agents while she is off gallivanting. That ended up requiring that I explain that I no longer work at the seminary. Which sent me off into a reverie about rejection slips from which I distracted myself by pulling out the information for my interview tomorrow for a volunteer position as a writing tutor…
Another email from the kids’ dad about fun with scheduling and other useful parenting issues that requires a thoughtful response (I definitely don’t want to be the Meanest Ex-Wife in the Entire Universe, even for a second. There are no possible good results from that, while Mean Mom may actually be teaching responsibility and respect for limits.).
And, in the meantime, I have managed to miss my ballet class. “I’m sorry Miss Audra, but I was saving the world and then…” You know, maybe I should just add reading and bon-bons to my to-do list in my handy Franklin Covey planner and it will appear that I accomplished what I set out to do today. I’ll do that right after the flute concert.