So in just a bit I'm headed in to have a couple suspicious moles removed. yay. Makes me tired just thinking about it. I really hope the old sawbones is running in the ballpark of on-time and gets me in and out of there quick, fast and in a hurry. After all, the world doesn't stop just because I have to take care of myself now does it? On tonight's agenda we have football practice and theater rehearsal and homework and showers and putting the kids to bed and hopefully a minute or two of adult conversation with my husband before I crash out. Only to get up at the ungodly hour of (wait for it...) 4:30 in the morning to make sure The Dervish (aka my 12 year old daughter) is at school in time to get on the bus for her field trip to the Aquarium in Chattanooga tomorrow. Oh drats! I STILL haven't told her dad about it! He'll probably be preturbed because it'll mean an extra trip up to get her tomorrow evening since it's his weekend. Thank goodness.
I think that's one of the few plusses to being divorced. (Well, at least being divorced the way we are anyway.) Most parents don't have the luxury of free, worry free child care every other entire weekend like I do. Every other weekend I have the opportunity to breathe and be me. To sleep late and eat junk. To stay up late and drink lots. To not worry about 'setting an example' or being a 'role model'. Don't get the impression that I'm a party all night kind of girl because I'm not generally. But every other weekend...I COULD BE if I wanted. And that's a luxury.
Of course, most of the time I'm so exhausted from the day-in, day-out that all I really want to do is stay piled up in the bed (with the mattress warmer cranked up) alternately sleeping and reading.
So, I'm on a downhill slide to the weekend and only have to leap the holey moleys to get there. Yes I know tomorrow's Friday but I always feel like I've made it when Friday rolls around. After all, that's blue jeans to work day and I know I won't have wear heels for the next 48 hours. Unless I WANT to that is...