Tuesday, November 10, 2009


I'm sitting on my couch watching Narnia for the 500th time with my schmegma covered son. He will not stop moving and so I have sent the same email 3 times to a prospective interview because his toes keep coming into contact with my laptop keyboard. By the third time I nudged him with my elbow and told him to cut the shit. Of course, he reminded me not to swear and then pretended to obliterate me with his imaginary bow and arrow. Kid is a terrible shot 'cause I'm still here, still pushing him (with a little more force) away from my computer. Swine flu or not, nobody gets in the way of my work.
I know, I know, this is why I'm not a stay-at-homer. I know my limits and I'm not afraid to admit them. Plus, I don't even like kids that much, so....
I can't help but think that this illness and me being trapped at home like a squirrel in a garbage can is the workings of karma. The day Lucian got sick, which apparently was in the afternoon, I was out, my umbilical cord to my laptop stretched beyond range, getting a mini-makeover at an expensive cosmetics shop. Of course, I felt guilty the whole time, mostly because I'm broke and should be working 90 hours a week and looking terrible. So, I left the place feeling good, looking at least 10 years younger. You know the feeling, dare I say it, confident?! And, in my life, spurts of confidence are always followed long, humbling treks through the desert of illness and entrapment.
Of course, any humbling experience usually involves vomit and sleeplessness. I feel so blessed.
For dinner, a conglomeration of curry, leftover pot roast, major spices, and rice. I tried, kind of.

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