Off Ramp

Ah, freedom.

MLK Day. No classes, no carpool, no responsibilities. It’s even too early in the quarter for papers to grade. A totally guilt-free day spent in my jammies, watching Thundercats on YouTube, grilled cheese sizzling on the stove. Nowhere to go and all day to get there.

While I’m pretty sure this isn’t exactly the freedom Dr. King had in mind, a working mom takes it where she finds it.

Not that I clocked out completely. There was the aforementioned grilled cheese feast, a handful of emails, the obligatory daily load of towels, feed the cats, feed the fish, call my mom, pick up the house, and dinner for four needs to happen. At some point. For me, that’s practically a day at the spa. Working moms, I know you hear me.

The problem we busy people have is that, when we get a free day, we feel GUILTY for taking it. What’s up with that? Is there a scoreboard someplace I don’t know about? A trophy for spinning in place the fastest? Do not buy a ticket for the guilt trip, people. Remember that freedom we were all celebrating a minute ago? My cats have the right idea.

Everyone’s obsessed with productivity and “multi-tasking” in the 21st century. We have cars that talk to us, iPads with enough connectivity to run a major corporation, and telephones that have more computing power than the first manned space mission. If you don’t have four or five applications open on your laptop at all times, you, madam, are slacking.

It doesn’t have to be this way. Just because we can, it doesn’t mean we have to. Still, changing the habits of a lifetime isn’t easy. As a first step, let’s break out some clichés to combat the urge to overcommit: 1. Stop and smell the roses. 2. It’s not the destination, it’s the journey. 3. Life has no finish line (well, it does, but you know what I mean). 4. No one’s tombstone ever read: Wish I’d Spent More Time At The Office.

You can do it, bro. Relax. Take back your Free Day. Order a pizza and contemplate your navel.

Me? I’m taking a nap.

Favorite Things To Do (that I can list in a public forum) Instead of the Writing I Am Supposed to be Doing:

Sharpening all my knives (known as the Nicholson Maneuver).
Making Coffee.
Checking my email. Nope, still nothing from my agent. (Thank gawd, because I am STALLING.)
Reorganizing my daughter’s sock drawer.
Reading stuff in my Spam Folder.
Re-doctoring an already perfect cup of Coffee.
Shopping for free Kindle stuff on Amazon.
Sneak-stalking old boyfriends and ex-bosses on Facebook.
Winning an argument with my cat. (Rare)
Sorting the twist ties in the junk drawer by color.
Drinking Coffee.
Riding around Hyrule on Epona.
Chatting with telemarketers.
Donating blood. (Limited stall value, as I only get to use this one every 8 weeks)
Zoning in front of the fish tank. (Lucky fin)
Watching Scandinavian flash mobs on YouTube.
Poking a sleeping kitty, just to watch her stretch, yawn, glare, recurl, and squish back into compacted snooze mode.
Blogging.

On the Importance of Reading Labels

I don't know WHY I didn't figure this out sooner!!!!

It's the shampoo I use in the shower!

When I wash my hair, the shampoo runs down my whole body

and (duh!) printed very clearly on the shampoo label is this warning:

FOR EXTRA VOLUME AND BODY!

NO wonder I have been gaining weight!!!

Well! I have gotten rid of that shampoo and I am going to start

using Dawn dish soap instead. Their label reads:

DISSOLVES FAT THAT IS OTHERWISE DIFFICULT TO REMOVE

Problem solved!!! If I don't answer the phone, I'll be in the shower!!!

A Thought For Labor Day

Barbara Walters, of 20/20, did a story on gender roles in Kabul,

Afghanistan, several years before the Afghan conflict.


She noted that women customarily walked five paces behind their husbands.


She recently returned to Kabul and observed that women still walk behind

their husbands. Despite the overthrow of the oppressive Taliban regime,

the women now seem happy to maintain the old custom.


Ms Walters approached one of the Afghani women and asked, 'Why do you now

seem happy with an old custom that you once tried so desperately to

change?'


The woman looked Ms Walters straight in the eyes, and without hesitation

said, “Land mines.”


Moral of the story is (no matter what language you speak or where you go):

BEHIND EVERY MAN, THERE'S A SMART WOMAN.

Snow Day

When I was a kid, I loved snow days. They were the meteorological get out of jail free card, the distant hope of which kept us all going through the murky days of deepest winter. They were Found Time, like coming across a twenty dollar bill in an old coat pocket. Unlooked for, unplanned for, unneeded, but jealously kept and thoroughly exploited if bestowed. Snow days belonged to no one and everyone.

Now I am a teacher. Now I hate them. They are a pebble in my shoe, a run in my stocking, a slow leak in my left rear tire. They are theft. They move my cheese, tighten my jaw, crowd my elevator.
Argghh.

Well, golly. I suppose a writer should be able to implement a better onomatopoeia than "argghh." Perhaps if class hadn't been canceled today due to snow, I would have had the time and energy to do so.

What I'm Doing Instead of Getting Ready For My In-Laws

Top Ten Holiday Songs of All Time (According to ME)

10. Santa Baby by Madonna (just like it, no big reason)
9. Last Christmas by Wham (a re-discovery after they sang it on GLEE)
8. White Christmas by Bing Crosby (you can cut his voice with a knife. The original Mr. Cool)
7. Baby Please Come Home by U2 (mmmm, Bono)
6. Winter Wonderland by Annie Lennox (love the a capella intro)
5. Feliz Navidad by Jose Feliciano (this prompts a car dance party every time it comes on the radio when I'm with my daughter and her friends)
4. You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch (Stink, Stank, Stunk)
3. I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus by John Cougar (mmm, John Cougar)
2. Santa Claus is Coming to Town by The Boss (Clarence Clemmons' ho ho ho at the end is a classic)
1. So This is Christmas by John Lennon. (Duh)

Conspicuously Absent:
All I Want For Christmas Is You by Mariah Carey (girl drives me up a wall)
I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas by Some Crazy Squeaky Voiced Chick
I Believe in Father Christmas by Greg Lake (creepy)
Anything by Andy Williams (he's no Bing Crosby)

Training Wheels

I am teaching my daughter to drive.
If you haven't been there, there's nothing I can say.
If you have, 'nuff said.

Pray for me.