The boys had a PTO day yesterday. (What's a PTO day? Click here.) And I was feeling pretty darn good about myself, because I got all ambitious and knocked a few items off the Mother Load while they were gone.
* Cleaned the furnace filters, though I'm in denial about summer really being over, and trying not to run the furnace until October. Wish me luck.
* Removed all the window screens (which we only really need for about four or five months), washed them, and stored them in the garage. I even cleaned all the window sills - you know, all that gunky stuff that accumulates between the screen and the window? And - wow - taking off the screens lets in a lot more light! And the view is so much sharper! Well, at least I notice a difference.
* Started cleaning my office. Made good headway. The closet is nice and tidy, and I just have a pile of stuff on my desk to sort and act on.
Not bad, yah?
Only three items, but the whole window screen thing was a big one. So I was feeling pretty good.
Until about 3am when I was feeling anything but good. I'll spare you the details, but something I ate wasn't happy.
Guess what time it was when I finally started feeling better and dropped off to sleep?
6:00am... time to get up.
But I didn't.
So our day got off to a much-delayed start, meaning there is no way we'll be done with our school work by lunch time. Sorry, boys.
Then I had to spend 30 minutes on the phone answering nit-picky questions (we're renewing our life insurance) while a very slow-talking woman very slowly typed my answers into her very slow computer.
Meanwhile, Wyatt and Tate had a wrestling match in their bedroom.
And Gunnar began to call frantically from the bathroom.
Where the toilet was overflowing.
And I skipped breakfast and now I'm hungry, but a little afraid to eat, thank-you-very-much.
I'm feeling about this morning rather like the Queen felt about 1992 when she said, with typical British understatement, that it was "not a year on which I shall look back with undiluted pleasure".
But the good news is, Friday's Hither and Thither awaits, and - due to the boys' hour long soccer practice in the rain last night - I had to turn the furnace on. Else their shoes will never, never dry.
So the bad news is the house smells like wet, grassy soccer shoes, but the good news is, at least I'm warm.