One hour a day.........

This past weekend I attended the most wonderful writing retreat in the Idaho mountains. This was something I've wanted to do for years, but always found a reason not to attend. Most of those reasons had to do with being a mom and not wanting to disappoint one kid or another. This time was no different - I missed closing night of my kids' musical at school (sold out!) and prom. PROM! That milestone event that, for me, means hundreds of photos and living vicariously through my gorgeous daughter wrapped in layers of tulle and sparkles. I was so torn. Both my high-school aged kids were attending the event but it was my daughter's senior year and it's really a once-in-a-lifetime event. How could I miss it?

But, with her blessing, I shucked off those mom duties for a weekend, booked my plane tickets, paid for the retreat, and surprised myself with the swiftness of my decision. No turning back now! I'll admit I briefly entertained the idea of bailing out- the pull to not miss a single minute of anything significant in my kids' lives was strong - but I boarded the plane early Friday morning, having packed at midnight the night before. I wasn't certain I had a complete outfit, enough clean underwear, or a toothbrush, but I tossed everything into a large duffel bag and stumbled sleepily into the crisp morning air for the 40-minute ride to the airport. Turns out I had remembered everything except my mascara so I rocked the natural look all weekend.

What followed was a weekend of hard work, tons of good, useful advice, and an action plan! In that short time, I gleaned some wonderful social media tips to keep my sphere engaged, explored ideas for how to make time for writing, took a hard look at my work/life balance, committed to writing an hour a day, and outlined my book. I also ate wonderfully delicious meals, consumed large quantities of adult beverages, soaked in the beauty around me, and met new friends. It was bliss. I was overwhelmed, slightly emotional, and motivated. Did I mention I slept in a beautifully-appointed room complete with a writing desk, my own bathroom and a stately eagle perched in a tree right outside my window? There was no shortage of inspiration.

And then it was Monday, back in Seattle.

I woke to my 6 a.m. alarm, dressed, packed my lunch, searched for something for breakfast (Ovaltine, celery and peanut butter....the pickings were slim), and commuted to my job. I ran an errand on my 30-minute lunch break, taught my after-school class, and waited with a student who's mom was late picking him up.

I headed straight for the grocery store with a reasonable list and coupons in hand. Then, I received a text from my daughter that informed me she was enjoying the sunny day taking a hike. When I mentioned I was going to the store, she texted me a list twice as long as the one I held in my hand. The shopping trip took two hours, and I performed a feat of shopping cart Jenga trying to keep everything balanced as I pushed my squeaky cart around the store. I arrived at the checkout with a jumbo-sized package of toilet paper and a clamshell carton of strawberries balanced precariously on top of five industrial-sized boxes of cereal. $257 later (even after $20 worth of coupons!), I loaded up seventy bajillion bags and finally, blessedly, headed home.

Lucky for me, when I arrived home, other family members were present to haul in the sustenance. I ran upstairs to go to the bathroom (I'd been holding it for two hours) and when I came back down, everyone had gone back to their regularly scheduled programming as the motherlode of groceries mocked me from the kitchen. I asked for some assistance putting everything away, to which one child replied "I'll just entertain you all while you work!" I began the arduous process of washing produce and preparing dinner, but not before I had to perform sanitization of the counters covered with crumbs, burnt macaroni, and errant Ramen noodles. Dirty dishes wobbled; a dubious mountain rising from the sink.

With help from my adult child, I prepared food - I won't call it a "meal" because it consisted of oriental chicken salad and regular chicken salad and nothing else. No side dishes, no vegetable. Just two chicken salad choices and whatever you could find to drink. I made myself a chicken salad sandwich, poured a caffeine-free Pepsi over crushed ice and inhaled it while checking my email. Then, I loaded the dishwasher, hand-washed the "too big" stuff and finally got a shower at 9:30 p.m. It was 9:45 when I started writing this and, I ask you, WHERE IS MY HOUR? If I stay up till 10:45, I'll be tired when my alarm goes off tomorrow. I have to be to work early. Yes, I'm writing, but it's not for my book. I simply ran out of time.

Never mind I had fanciful plans of doing a load of laundry and exercising tonight. Neither materialized. I'm exhausted and annoyed. I was grouchy toward my family tonight (eh, they deserved it. Do the dishes and mommy won't be so angry). The very day after I was so inspired and motivated, reality bit me, and its venom stings.

I just keep telling myself, "maybe tomorrow" but tomorrow is NOW. I've already tried to pawn the grocery shopping off on my husband (it works, sometimes), I've stopped making dinner every night, and I'm ignoring my social media in favor of blogging. Yet, here I am, the day after making a commitment to myself to put my passion first, and failing.

I'll try again tomorrow.........

Damn you, Monday!

Today started out dicey because I didn't sleep well at all last night so I was worried I'd be tired all day. And I did yawn at a few inappropriate times, but mostly I got through my workday without a hitch. Except, of course, I stayed late, like I do almost every day because my last class is scheduled till 12:45 and I am expected to leave at 12:45 as well. And there's no time to finish up, put things away, gather my things, etc. So, most every day I stay 15 minutes to a half hour late.

But, no worries, because I still had plenty of time to go to the store. Which I swore I was not going to do this week because we're "snug" (I heard that term the other day and thought it was hilarious - not "tight" but "snug"). But I went anyway because I needed some things for dinner and also because I'm on staff room duty and I need to bring treats each day this week. More on that later.

The shopping trip took me almost two hours! That was just to go to two stores that are right next to each other. Granted, I don't shop there all the time, so it takes longer to find things, but UGH! Why does shopping take so long?

After shopping I had to pick up a few things from my Buy Nothing friends. I REALLY just wanted to drive home and put away the groceries and get started on dinner, but I knew I couldn't put my pick ups off any longer.

So, I got home with my car load of groceries and saw my son's car in the driveway. YAY, I thought, grocery help! But, alas, no. I came in the house and was greeted by silence which I took to mean he was napping. How lovely to be afforded the luxury of napping in the middle of the day. I carried in all the groceries myself. AND put them away. Much later, my son appeared. I asked "What were you doing?" to which he replied "Chilling." Oh.

Then, the putting away of groceries took 45 minutes. I then proceeded to mix up a fall trail mix for staff room treats for Friday (when I won't be there to put something out so I needed something easy and ready for someone else to put out). I scooped the mix into 60 or so individual Halloween-themed bags. I stopped only long enough to look up a recipe and immediately started chopping veggies for dinner. I whipped up a broccoli/cauliflower/cheese soup and made crescent rolls. Bless the beautiful soul who invented biscuits in a can. Not only are they so easy and convenient, but I truly enjoy whomping the container on the counter to open them, thereby letting off a little pent-up steam after a long Monday.

While dinner was cooking, I attempted to make a treat for tomorrow. I found "break and bake" cookies at the store in apple spice. That sounded kind of ick to me, but I got the brilliant idea to push a caramel on top of each cookie before baking. Not so brilliant. The cookies came out GLUED to the cookie sheet and no amount of chiseling would free them. I hacked away at them and finally used scalding hot water to release the caramel glue. (Side note, yesterday's attempt at "mini caramel apples" was also a disaster as the caramel cooled and hardened too quickly and melted off the apple balls). Clearly, I should never use Kraft caramels. I still had a package of cookie dough left so I cooked them according to the package directions, left out the caramel centers and arranged the cooled cookies on a Halloween plate sprinkled with the leftover, unmelted caramels.

I had big plans for making up themed treats each day during my staff room week. It's only Monday and I'm already resorting to break and bake cookies. This is a metaphor for my life.

Big surprise - no one helped clean up from dinner OR did the dishes. So, I started that process and was busy running around the kitchen when I heard the dog go upstairs. I'm always suspicious of her exits from the room - they usually mean something bad has happened. I turned around to find a LAKE of dog pee on the kitchen floor - directly below my feet! How in the world did a 55 lb dog pee several gallons on the floor under my feet and not only did I not see anything, I didn't hear anything, either? She just unloaded and quietly went upstairs to wait out the impending wrath.

I used half a roll of paper towels attempting to sop it all up, but that was inadequate, and for some reason, all of my "dog towels" have disappeared, so I got the mop. I mopped up the floor with hot water and Pine-Sol and realized that my mop sucks and I need a new one. For one thing, it barely wrings so that after I was done, the floor was still sopping. I used some more paper towels to try to wipe up the excess water and waited for the floor to dry while still attempting to clean up the kitchen.

I needed a Halloween plate for the cookies, so I went into the living room where I had a few displayed on the coffee table. As I carried it into the kitchen, I tripped on the FULL dish of dog water and sent it cascading across the kitchen floor, it's volume exceeding even the gallons of dog piss I had JUST mopped up. I had already used up my paper towels and I lamented (loudly) that we didn't have any dog towels to use. My husband suggested I just get some dirty towels from the laundry so I ran upstairs shouting "I'm so f**ing tired of this sh*t. I just want to take a shower and relax already! I've had to poop for two hours now!" Which was true. I know, right? Not even time to poop.

I soaked up the dog water and the rug was wet so of course I decided that it needed to be washed as did all the other kitchen rugs so I bundled them all into a pile to take upstairs. I tossed them in the wash and FINALLY got my shower.

The dishes still aren't done. I did manage to put the food away. After my shower, I went downstairs, got some milk and cookies, my computer and my phone and retreated to bed. I don't care if it's only 8 p.m. I'm so done with Monday!

P.S. My dog is kicking around her water dish which is her way of telling me she's thirsty. Guess who's not getting her dish filled? Payback's a bitch, Georgette. Swallow your spit.