Friday, November 15, 2013

Never Enough Time To Do All The Nothing You Want

No post without a picture. So, Percy.
This morning I asked Matt, "This weekend, what do you not want to do?" He said, "There is so much I don't want to do. Everything, actually."  So we have no real plans.

We're a family who needs regular downtime.

There was a fair amount of downtime for me today. In fact, one reason I started blogging again was because of days like this, days where nothing big happens and I know that in three weeks I will not remember it at all, and it's one more day of my precious life gone. Cheery, right? Teach me to know my days are numbered and all. That's what I'm trying for.

This morning I got up at 7:00 and got Hank up. That's too late for the bus but in plenty of time to drive him to school, which I did. But when I got there the car line was so long that I parked and circumvented the line by walking him to the door, walked him to the door wearing my literal pajama pants. I am not abashed.

Then I returned home where Laura had arisen and gotten dressed and was working on a model of a cell wall for science. The last I'd heard, this was going to involve shaving cream or something, but then I turned my back for five minutes and during that time she found an old Whitman's sampler box, punched holes in the sides to represent the plasmodesmata, put a piece of craft foam on the bottom, lined the perimeter with cotton balls, and then filled the box with a half inch of shampoo. Cytoplasm? Fruity, delicious-smelling cytoplasm. I pulled off the lid and was like, whoa...hmmm...okay, done!

I was troubled by the fact that the cell was rectangular and not some more organic shape, and she was all, "Mom, it's just like a schematic." And then she pointed to the holes in the side of the candy box and talked about ion transfer, and I was all, okay Marie Curie.

Later I told Matt that she had filled a cardboard box with shampoo, and he allowed as how that sounded like an absolutely terrible idea.

This all took until about 8:15.

Then I remembered that it is Staff Appreciation Day and I owed a cafeteria worker breakfast at 9:00. The room mom had sent me her breakfast order: Chicken biscuit and tea. I texted the room mom and said, "I'm gonna assume this is sweet tea," and she was like, "Uh, YEAH." 

So I got back in the car and went to Chick-fil-A for chicken biscuits and tea. Then I drove back to the school, this time wearing legit pants. Right in the foyer, they had a drop station set up to receive all the incoming meals, and I stayed to see the breakfast labeled with my lunchlady's name and then I was off again.

By now it was raining lightly and I texted my tennis friend. We agreed to push our singles match back a bit in hopes that it would dry up. Fabienne was coming to clean, so I decided to go home and clear away some clutter. I ran around like a dervish and put sheets out, etc. When she came in, I greeted her, but I don't really like to hang around while she works. I think everyone basically feels that way? Usually I either have something to do at the elementary school and then have lunch out, or I have tennis and then lunch out, and by the time I've done all that she's finished and gone.

So I cleared out of there again and my friend and I met at the tennis court. We played exactly one game--I'm talking maybe two minutes of tennis, and it started to rain in earnest. We surrendered and climbed back in our cars.

Let the record show that I won that one game.

I went to TJ Maxx and returned a pair of pants for Hank. I did not buy anything else, so that was a revenue-neutral situation. I tried on a few dresses though, and fingered lots of the merch, but I was kind of over all of it. It's good to go and remind myself of all the stuff I don't need though.

Then I went to Panera and sat by their little gas fireplace and ate lunch by myself. Matt is my preferred lunch partner, but he was busy today--his exact words were, "I have to get some work done before the company goes to play whirlyball," so I was on my own. Panera is the kind of place where you're quite comfortable being by yourself, so I eavesdropped a lot and I read Wolf Hall.

It's a lot better now, but I remember that Panera during the worst of the recession was a anxious place. Lots of tense, hopeful little meetings and interviews going on at all those little tables. Anyway.

Then I went to the store and bought apples. Then it was time to meet Hank's bus. Fabienne had gone, leaving a clean house, or, you know, clean enough. Hank brought his buddy home and they jumped on the wet leafy trampoline and whacked each other with nerf swords at the same time. When they wanted to come inside, I made them stand on a beach towel while I removed the leaf litter from their clothing.

There was a letter in Hank's folder that informed me he's going to be given a thirty-minute "creativity test" next week. I pondered that in my heart. I really have no idea what that would look like at all.

Then Laura came home, and her afternoon tennis was also rained out, so we found ourselves with hours of afternoon at home, and that almost never happens. Laura told me her box of shampoo went over just fine, and that there is a new girl in school and she's the prettiest girl she's ever seen and they are already friends. Then I made some beans and rice with andouille sausage and we piddled around. Then Matt came home. The End.

It's just a blog about nothing.

Thank you for reading; I hope your eyeballs still point the right way. xoxo

14 comments:

Elle said...

What the frank?! How do you post a photo of Percy & not give one deet about Percy? Not what she did today, nor ever! Foul!

Camp Papa said...

A "creativity test" that falls within the narrow parameters of the institution's capacity to quantify creativity. What could go wrong?

Becky said...

Yeah, I guess irony will not be covered.

Becky said...

Elle, I know, one day I will do a whole post about Percy and her ways.

Beth said...

I constantly eat lunch by myself. I mean, at restaurants. If they count as restaurants when you have to order at the counter. I read or work or whatever. I just discovered some months ago that people in my current milieu consider this unusual. I guess I was trained for the 10 years of grad school to consider lunch the perfect place to read & get things done.

Elizabeth said...

I loved it all and found it utterly inspiring. Don't be surprised to find that I've done the same on my blog.

Christian said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Christian said...

I never would have believed that having a weekly cleaning could be stressful, or I never dreamed that I'd ever be in a position to complain about cleaning-lady-induced stress, BUT, yes, there is some strange stress that comes from needing to preclean, feeling monitored, and then wanting not to be here. Also, I cannot communicate at all with her. She's Korean, and I speak none. Since I live in Korea, I'm accustomed to never being about to communicate, but usually the Koreans I cannot talk to are not in my bathroom.

delaine said...

I love your" nothing much going on" days! I would have loved doing nothing with you, but I suspect I would've been folding clothes. Pajama pants. Many years ago I had a night gowned mom bring a tardy student to my classroom door. No robe. Thin nylon tricot shortie gown. So... I approve of your pj pants. Ha!
Both Laura and Hank are very creative, although I doubt the efficacy of such a test. Oh well.

Erica Prante said...

I would have met you up there for lunch. :)

Becky said...

Christian, knowing that your lady comes on your day off just makes me want to weep!

Becky said...

E, I shoulda thought of that! Next time.

Keely said...

As usual, Camp Papa says what I am thinking, but much more eloquently. Creativity test, wut?

Our family also requires a lot of downtime.

Marsha said...

Creativity test...yes, I want to hear more about that. If it's one of those things that allows access to "gifted" ed outside of the usual parameters than I'm guardedly all for. We'll see.

And, yes, I do not care for being home during cleaning appointments, either. I resisted household assistance for years and years - why cannot I not care for my own home! lots of reasons, it seems - but recently have made the acquaintance of one Mrs. Long. She is A++ fastidious on my behalf and very chatty. When I find myself home on alternate Thursday afternoons it's wall to wall information so I find it easier to be elsewhere. So much unpacking to happen with this. Sigh.