Bombing out on NaBloPoMo

So, as you may have noticed, (or not), I did not post yesterday. I have officially failed at NaBloPoMo, which I kind of already did at the beginning. But I realized today that I am doomed on this one anyway, as I will be spending a large chunk of next week without the internettiness that it takes for one to post entries to one’s blog.

It’s been a good exercise and all, this posting every day thing, but I think it’s making me kind of boring. Kind of like when you take a road trip with somebody and, you know, things get a little stale in the conversation. You start talking about dumb things just to have something to talk about. This blog is on a road trip to Pennsylvania, my lovelies. We’ll get there in December and then we’ll just talk every few days again, and it will be far more entertaining and meaningful.

Know what’s great about my job? The driving. I do love the driving around in the little towns. That, and the decision to give me a fairly generous amount of paid time off beginning in February. Ladies and gents, I’m PART TIME! Have you ever heard of such a thing? I am in shock and awe and, as mimi smartypants suggests in reference to her toddler’s nap schedule, I feel like I should spit on the ground or take other preventative measures every time I say “paid time off.”

Book Group was last night, and Birdy and O. had a such a fabulous time chasing the kitties around and sharing/ not sharing with each other. Every time we all get together for this non-reading book group, I run around and sweat and put too many things in my arms at once while trying to unlock the car, and make something dumb and unplanned as a food contribution, all in an effort to leave the office, get to the daycare, back home and out the door with toddler and pot luck dish and get our happy asses across town to get to the get-together.

I get stuck in traffic, I curse.

I show up unshowered with mascara rubbed down to my cheekbones, food on my clothes, snot on my kid.

And then I get there and it is so worth it to spend a couple of hours with these friends, even though any conversation I might have is from behind the couch or in the bathroom, wherever the Bird happens to have set her course. I like knowing that we’ll all end up with practically identical baby pictures because our kids have all worn the same passed-around clothes. It’s just so very nice. (And I’m not just saying this because they read my blog.)

Ready for the weekend? Goodness, me too.


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