Child 2 said today that it cannot blog properly because - and this is the good part - unlike me it does not have a day that produces blog fodder. Unlike me.
So, for Child 2 I present my super-fantastic, blogolistic day.
5:00 reluctantly awake. At least I didn't wake up at 3 and then 3:30 and then 4 and then 4:30 as I usually do. On the other hand I didn't wake up before the alarm and have the satisfaction of going back to sleep again. Not sure if I resent that or not; it's too early to make these vital decisions. If I don't get up now though I won't be awake enough to be any use by the time work actually starts. Out of bed.
6:00 out the door. Morning commute is better than afternoon - less sun, less heat, the coarser edges on the streets less visible in the half-light. I'm still half asleep and the stream of consciousness in my head is just at the point where it seems utterly brilliant but I'm aware enough to be grateful I probably won't remember any of it. I snag the shady parking spot and walk the mile or so into the office, purposefully speeding up the pace this morning what with the Olympics and all that. We all have to do what we can.
7:00 in the office. I hate waking up early but it's worth it for the start-of-day putter I can do with no one else around. Someone brought in dried lavender and the smell is just under my awareness unless I think about it and then I enjoy the crispness. My computer is still not talking to the email program but everything else seems to be working - even the mouse is accepting its proper mouse pad now. I check the news (BBC) and think about setting up my Pandora account for this computer but I've forgotten the password by now so I'll have to start from scratch and it's still early enough that this feels like an enormous amount of work. I potter down the hall instead to fill my water bottle.
to work. Someone needs an ad (2.5" X 2"), deadline today and they only told me about it last Wednesday. Also they want it to include two totally different programs... right. Talk them down to one program, simple, one pre-existing graphic and a couple of words. Still have to do three versions since the text they submitted would have to be set at 4.5 pt to fit in which is, frankly, ridiculous. Spend far too much time fiddling with the existing icon - live trace only does so much - and then doing the same for the organization mandated logo. Think viciously that the guidelines only say I have to include the logo somewhere, not what size it has to be. Yes, it does look a little like a deranged lady bug at the only size that really fits but lady bugs are beautiful creatures and probably bring great advertising luck.
interrupted for the daily coffee run. We swoop up everyone who wants to head out and toddle over to the SUB. French Roast for one, Pinon for another (confusing the coffee ladies who are used to a half decaf, half pinon order but hey, sometimes you've got to mix it up like that). I carefully wipe down the cream cart because if you leave those dairy dribbles they get crusty on the edges and that's just gross. They used to give me a hard time about this but I've noticed they're all nicely trained now and I hardly ever have to grab a napkin myself. Why can I train co-workers but not Children? Discouraging. Back to the ad.
ad done, on to the next. I notice that the website that was not going to need any more updates, no really, promise, this is it, now needs several more updates. At least the poster (featuring the Male Child in silhouette) is pretty much finished and no one is asking me to make the figure "more androgynous" which was considered for a while leaving me extremely confused about how to androgynize my own very male Child.
meetings about meetings. Natter on a bit with co workers about vital things such as: when to meet to discuss the massive ginormous unbelievably complex database project we were just landed with; how best to confront HR with the need to give us the staff support we need in order to do the THREE jobs I'm now trying to do (seriously contemplated asking extra people to come in and bustle around looking frantic and chaotic. We could offer them bagels - that almost always works); how people, in general, often suck.
emails and general housekeeping. blerg. There's nothing remotely interesting to say about this particularly as several emails are to restate the same thing I said last time that apparently didn't sink in.
commute home. Could be worse, could be hotter, could be... erg. I hate this commute home! I could turn on the radio but every time I do it's Red Hot Chili Peppers and I really can't stand those guys. Besides their songs last forever. Worse it might be System of a Down and I loathe them.
walk in the door to a phone message from Child 3's friend saying Child 3 is in need of a ride and is waiting at a bus stop. I suppose I like Child 3 enough to pick it up but I do wonder where its phone is and why its friend is calling instead. Quick drive down to the school and back and no sign of Child 3 until I turn down our street and see a familiar back heading towards the house after running home. Let Child 3 in and don't wince much as it sits and sweats on the furniture - thank goodness for the blanket folded over the back of the chair.
spend several hours doing tedious but essential work on a file. Listen to Child 2 whine and complain about being forced to eat vegetables (part of Let's Try Healthy For A Change campaign. Child 2 is suffering terribly). Listen to Child 3 virtuously claim that it LOVES vegetables which is hardly fair as Child 3 loves food. Period. I finally get Child 2 to choke down its veggies with a combination of threats (me) and bribes (Child 1 and its copy of Breaking Dawn).
settle down to the Olympics. Beach volleyball still looks way too glamourous to be an Olympic event but is, at least in my tiny little mind, a leetle more sport-like than synchronized swimming or rhythmic gymnastics. Child 2 sits directly in front of the television and loses itself totally in its book, looking up ten seconds after every cheer or comment to say, "eh? What? What happened." We all refuse to fill it in because we are wickedly cruel.
trying to decide if I can stand watching Michael Phelps try for his third gold because it would just be so dang cool if he got it. It can't be worse than gymnastics where I spend the whole time hiding my face so I don't see anyone fall off anything. I decide to blog with most of my brain and half-watch with the rest.
and just to round off the excitement I think I'll brush my teeth and head to bed. Maybe, just maybe, with a truly exciting book about WWI.
And there you are, Child 2. It's not about having an exciting day, its about waffling on about it relentlessly.
NB: HE DID IT!!