Helping my six-year old do his homework is good for one thing: reminding me what day it is. The teachers drill writing today's date on everything is great because it reminds me - even though it's half-past three in the afternoon when I realize it's the tenth.
I get freaked out.
"Oh, m'gosh! It's the tenth already? Half the month is almost over!" I pull my hair back and take deep breaths - think, think, think, think, think!
Alarms and sirens go off in my head, like Sigourney Weaver on a self-destructive ship because I know something is due or something is late and I can't remember what. Damn electronic billing!
What month is this....FEBRUARY?! Okay, there's tax forms, birthdays, Valentines and...Winter Recess!
"Holy Schnikeys! What am I going to do with you guys for a whole week?"
Big brother finds my preoccupation a perfect time to ignore his homework and fling his boogers. He's egged on by the little guy who is bent over and spanking his own butt. Inevitably the buffoonery gets out of hand and there goes another ten minutes getting them to settle down.
That's why I never get anything done...or so I tell myself.
In truth, the tenth is hardly "half the month". But if the tenth falls on a Thursday, you piss away the weekend and looky-here...it's Tuesday and half the month is over. Is this a "glass half-empty" view, you think?
I guess the key term is "piss away." At some point, with every year I became more fanatical about wasting time. And though cramming every minute with an activity is unavoidable with two boys, I'm sad that I have to re-learn how to relax. I'm sad that my coffee always gets cold before I finish it. I'm sad that my arms and legs have to become a hairy gorilla before I wax it.
Just mention a luxurious "Spa" and I think I have to die to get there.
My brain needs to be rebooted to know the difference between winding down and wasting time. Eons ago, when I was young and single, I was easy going. Yes, like Lionel Ritchie's Sunday morning.
So I decided - after finding enough gray hairs to make a gray-haired pony tail - that I am going to piss away February. It's mapped out for me anyway. I just have to listen for my i-Phone to ring the reminder alerts and tell me where I need to be. And the next time the boys have a spank-fest booger flinging fight, I'm joining in.