Thursday, March 12, 2009

It's 3:49 on a Thursday afternoon

Juli:
I’m “working from home.” I am at the kitchen counter pretending not to hear my kids pretending to be taking a nap upstairs. I’m drinking Crystal Lite, fruit punch, and am trying to do some work for a friend’s website and be finished by 5. I will not finish. I’m wishing I’d showered this morning and am bothering my friends with my pet projects. And realizing I’m going to be up late doing work for another client. And I still need to get in a 7 mile run. What I really want to be doing is putting a quick shine coat on the wood floors in the kitchen. Welcome to my sickness.

Me, hunched over my laptop, really not accomplishing much, is the appropriate visual.

Em:
I escaped from work early and am now doing my part to stick it to the cable company by re-watching "Zach and Miri Make a Porno" for the 3rd time after buying it on pay-per-view last night.

Catherine:
I'm supposed to be making dinner, but I succumbed to the lure of the computer to find a recipe on the internet, and was caught like a fly in a trap, restlessly searching the internet for I know not what? Solutions to all the problems in my life? Entertainment? Information? Companionship? Outrage?

I'm listening to a retrospective about the TV program ER on NPR's Talk of the Nation. Dr. Mehmet Oz is the guest. The dogs are having an afternoon nap, and the house is silent. There's clean laundry folded on the coffee table, waiting to be put away. The dregs of last week's "sick dishes" pileup are in the kitchen, waiting for me to stick my cold hands in the dirty water. The sun is shining outside, but it's still solidly winter here in Michigan on this March day. I can't smell anything because I still have lingering sinus congestion from my cold. The post nasal drip occasionally triggers my gag reflex--hard--causing weirdly amusing "surprise vomit" moments. My husband tells me that my constant throat clearing is offputting, but he's not here, and I am not aware of it.

Any minute, Glen will burst in through the front door, home from school. We are having cornish pasties for dinner--a Michigan UP delicacy that I developed a fondness for one summer in high school when I went to Michigan Tech for a two-week smart kids camp. I'll be using leftover pot roast from last night and home made pie crust made with whole wheat pastry flour. That's the recipe I was tracking down. I have 618 words of my minimum 750 word article written, and another 200 worder that I haven't started yet due as well.

Leigh:
i am waiting for my son to finish pooping, wash his hands and put his boots on so we can go home. swim instructor stood us up and i have a bone crushing headache from skipping lunch so i could leave early to get them to swim. someone hates me. darn full moon!

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