I’m juggling as fast as I can

Juggling is tiring.

I am tired.

This week has been busy on all fronts, making me think that wearing this many hats will leave me with either a bald spot or a medical prescription for scalp massage therapy. Personally, I’m hoping for the massage therapy.

It started at work – my day job in Corporate America. Monday through Wednesday were filled with meetings upon meetings, coaching sessions with my staff, and interruptions every 4.3 minutes, which left me with no time to get anything assigned to me done, including a marketing plan that will no doubt showcase my writing talents and organizational skills, but will end up in a landfill somewhere in the not too distant future like the rest of the other plans and memos I’ve written throughout my 17-year marketing career in Corporate America, alongside the many food wrappers I’ve thrown out after scarfing down lunch items resembling food, even though I know eating at my desk causes indigestion and “butt creep” that would be remedied if I went to the gym on my lunch hour. But, then when would I do my job?

My evenings as Good Mama/Bad Mama weren’t any easier. After work on Monday, it was my night to pick up the kids. Drama Girl told me that she and her friend Ryan were in love, which I gather is because she’s willing to swap her prized Littlest Pet Shop toys for his candy cane left over from Christmas and a toy he stole from his sister. T-Rex had a case of croup, so he coughed all night like a barking seal, which is how croup sounds, and it meant that neither he nor I got any sleep. On Tuesday evening we attended Drama Girl’s soccer practice and then went to the nearest ice cream joint because I felt guilty for feeding them crap for dinner and rushing us around so we could get to practice on time, so I decided it was fitting to feed them crap for dessert at a place selling overpriced, mediocre ice cream. On Wednesday night, I took Drama Girl to an outing with her Brownie troop, which consisted of eating more crap for dinner and mediocre ice cream at a Chuck E. Cheese type of place, except that it doesn’t have a creepy mouse like Chuck E., who made my kids cry the first and last time we ever stepped foot into the restaurant and amusement place named after him.

So, maybe the first few days of the week were extra hectic because I was trying to cram everything in before Thursday morning, when I drove with my mom up to Michigan to visit my grandmother who’s almost 93 and just got out of the hospital because, well, she’s almost 93 and had suffered some kind of infection. My grandma was happy to see us, and seems to be feeling better, which made me happy, and then I felt even happier when my mom told me she was happy I had suggested making the trip in the first place and that it was fun, even though gas was a whopping $3.30+ in Michigan (and we didn’t take my gas-efficient Prius) and the MapQuest directions were wrong in places and Michigan drivers are generally insane and there were too many big rigs traveling with us on I-75.

On Friday morning, we visited with my grandmother a little more, making sure she went to her physical therapy session even though she didn’t really want to go to physical therapy, and then hit the road again and got home home fine, making good time, because traffic was really moving and it’s easy to drive fast in my mom’s car. I picked up the kids from daycare and we all had dinner at my parents, and, before going home, I took the kids to get a birthday present for T-Rex’s friend, who was having a birthday party on Saturday, which is today.

Today, the kids had soccer games in the morning, which ended up being complete shut-outs not in their favor. After lunch I took Drama Girl to her dad’s so I could take T-Rex to the birthday party, and then I dropped him off like the bad parent I am for part of the time so I could go sit in the Starbucks downstairs and have an overpriced cappuccino while I drafted an essay I have to work on tonight so I can submit it for publication to a web site run by a very large media conglomerate that happens to own a big name in children’s entertainment and programming, which would be an excellent writing credit if the essay gets accepted, which I sure hope it does, even if all I have at the moment is chicken scratch on a notepad stained with cappuccino. By the way, after the birthday party, I took the kids to Super Cuts to get their hair cut because The Ex suffers from selective hearing when I ask him to do things like that, and I didn’t have the energy to ask again because I was tired.

Really tired.

And now it’s almost time for the kids to go to bed…and for me to keep going.

Where is that prescription?

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