2003-01-11 - 7:54 p.m.
BLAME IT ON...
It couldn�t be my priorities. It couldn�t be my choices. It couldn�t be saying �yes� to too many things. It couldn�t be overscheduling. It couldn�t be me.
It must be something else. It must be the middle school musical and that costume I�m sewing for Day-Hay. It must be the high school and that mock trial team I�m coaching. It must be the school board or the client who needs hour after hour of explanation at three hour stretches that follow an hour-and-a-half drive to the prison and precede the one-and-a-half hour drive home. It must be the laundry, the cooking, and the girl scout meeting. It must be the mandatory work seminar (on my day off) on the changes in our sentencing law. It must be judging the high school civics competition down in Madison. But I know it�s not me.
It might be deciding to have dinner as a full family last night in the height of theater season even if it meant eating out. It might be Day-Hay�s persuasive essay on what should be the eighth wonder of the world that required computer time and some parental help on the difference between descriptive writing and persuasive writing. It might be taking time to tuck the girls in and kiss them goodnight despite their supposed maturity. It might be listening to stories of school days and of rehearsals. But I know it�s not me.
Maybe it is the fatigue that comes when you do too much too often for too many people. Maybe it is the backache from turning too quickly to move the table at the girl scout meeting after sitting all day in hard wooden chairs listening to speakers lecture on and on. Maybe it is getting up before 6:00 a.m. and, instead of leaving at 6:45 a.m., leaving at 6:30 a.m. or so. Maybe it is dragging my body into bed as soon as I�m able but not as soon as I need to. But I know it�s not me.
Perhaps it is the sudden burst of real winter weather with its sharp bite. Perhaps it is the extra help with hairwashing or the help making cookies that Day-Hay�s cast requires. Perhaps it�s tying all the fringe, four strands at a time, around two edges of the triangle piece of cloth that will be Day-Hay�s cape. Perhaps it�s taking time to listen to Kat�s hopes that she did reasonably well on the geometry that frustrates her so badly, to Day-Hay�s discussions of the interplay of the girls at school, and to Mr. Philately�s ideas about a legal argument. But I know it�s not me.
I didn�t fail to post. I didn�t neglect my few loyal readers. I didn�t stop writing because I could not sit down long enough to type out an entry. It�s not me. It couldn�t be me. I don�t want it to be me so it isn�t me. I just can�t take responsibility for one more thing so...
Blame it on..........SOMEBODY ELSE.
LAST YEAR: Almost Twelve
LAST FIVE ENTRIES:
The Answer to Clarence
Hypothermia
The Little Something
The Darkest Hour
Mock Trial
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Copyright 2006 by Ellen |
