oy vey!

What’s worse than working at home and going crazy because I’m by myself all day?

Working at home on a day when the Bumblebee, the Sweet Potato, and DH all have the day off from school/work AND I DON’T.

Boy, am I productive on a day where those little darlings are running around underfoot. And oh, it’s great to be calling people on the phone and have my daughter start an argument with me about when her quiet time ends. When does MY quiet time begin, for god’s sake?

On the plus side, I can refer all decisions to her dad. Which is kind of fun.

On the minus side, I have to actually look like I’m working all day long, in order to maintain the pretense that I’m actually working when I say I am, and am not, in fact, reading the Carnivale forum on Television Without Pity. Not because the Bumblebee can read–she’s not quite there yet (and given last night’s episode of Carnivale, I’d probably get taken away by Child Protective Services, if she was reading that). But because her dad would see it, and he’d bust me for not working, while saddling him with the kids.

Oh the shame.


February 21, 2005. work.

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