March 23: Getting Sick and Tired, Cleaning House, Book Club

I think I write better in the morning.  It is about 10 p.m. at the moment, and I have not one original or witty thought in my entire head.  All I can concentrate on is the fact that my nose is running like Joan Benoit, and I'm feeling like the deer roadkill I saw on the side of the highway this evening.  I'm sick and tired.

I just finished dusting and swiffering the house.  It took much longer than I thought it was going to take.  I hate cleaning this late at night.  My whole goal on Fridays is to have the cleaning done before my daughter gets home from school.  Obviously, that didn't happen today.  I wasn't even close to being done when I left to pick up my daughter.

I wouldn't be quite so fanatical about getting the cleaning done today if my book club weren't meeting at my house this Sunday.  Not only that, but the author of the book is going to be here, as well.  I'm a little stressed about the whole thing.  And I just realized my daughter has a birthday party to attend around the same time as the book club.  I tried to talk her out of going to the birthday party, but I wasn't successful.

There, I've said everything that's in my head at the moment.  I just reread what I typed, and I nearly fell asleep.  Now, I'm trying to think of an amusing way to end this post.  Nothing is coming to mind.  I think I'm going to have to resign myself to the fact that, at least tonight, I'm about as entertaining as Mitt Romney at a pancake breakfast.  I'll give you a clue:  the maple syrup has more personality.

Saint Marty promises a little more syrup, a little less Mitt tomorrow.

I'd vote for the syrup