This is an example of the kind of dingy crap I’ve been doing lately. 

Walk into the kitchen to get a fresh cup of tea. 

Think about chocolate.

Rinse out cup, put it on the counter.

Because I MUST multi-task, also start water for Chance’s next bottle and wipe down counter.

Think about laundry.

Start filling cup from water cooler that has dual hot/cold water taps.

Think about the 1981 Reagan assassination attempt. (I have no idea why this popped into my head. Something about differing generational expectations… or something.)  Try to remember how old I was when it happened. (10)

Finish filling cup with water.

Walk to microwave, put in cup, start to punch numbers.


Furrow brow. Think, “Why am I nuking it? Did I fill it with cold water?”

Stick finger into scalding hot water to check temperature.

Pull cup from microwave, put in teabag.

Contemplate the Bugs Bunny line, “What a maroon.”

Wonder if pregnancy permanently addled my brain.

Think about the color maroon.

What I’ve actually been doing is working through another (work) crunch period, taking care of my poor emotionally-regressed little boy (he has another cold), coordinating some playgroup items (wha? how did that happen?), and forgetting about a million other things.  Par for the course.  But I’m still blaming it on pregnancy.  In fact, despite how busy I become or how harried I feel, I have identified the TRUE recurring themes in my life. It is not, as you might imagine, “family, friends, work, blogging.”  It is instead, “family, chocolate, blame pregnancy, desire sleep, caffeine, writing.”  Please expect an anguished poem with these themes any day now.            – the weirdgirl

Alright, I couldn’t wait on the poem.  Envision with dramatic pauses and “significant” looks.  Oh, and I’ll be wearing a beret.

The thinning cry drifts

shallow down the hall.

Chocolate drips like tears…

like mucus…

robbing me from sleep. 

Muffled brain shuffles incomprehensively

across label:

the children’s Tylenol glares.

My stretch marks sing soothingly.

(OK, I’ll stop being a complete smartass now.)