Some days I’m consumed by a general malaise. Some days it’s all I can do to drive to work, clock in, and avoid being terminated for bad decisions made in the throes of exhaustion and caffeine withdrawal. Today, however, I am kicking life’s ass.
It’s worth noting this, especially now that the Doomsday Clock has melted down into a Dali-esque puddle. If I get more done before 11 am than most people get done in a week, it’s time for a celebration. Rare Earth or Kool & The Gang, your choice.
Bea and I took Cora to preschool then we headed to the Poinsett County Conservation District office to register wells. That’s right. My family owns six wells, which are registered at ten bucks a pop so the Gubmint can keep tabs on pesky soil erosion. I also found some cool acorns for Cora to give to Totoro later (if you don’t know what this means, go watch My Neighbor Totoro). After that, we headed back to town and visited Trina Smith at Centennial Bank. Bea made out with a cool heart-shaped sucker, and Trina gave us one to give Cora later.
Then we went to the insurance office, the post office, and the CPA’s office, and let me tell you, getting a 2.67-year-old kid in and out of the back of a van repeatedly is a workout. It was just a warm-up, really, because then we went home so I could get swole, bro. I had to sneak the weights out of the bedroom so I wouldn’t bother Gina and Willie, but that’s okay. Stealth low-light dumbbell transport is part of my routine now. I put the ninja in book ninja.
Last and certainly not least, I dragged the old dead television set out into the garage and replaced it with one Mom brought over yesterday. Apparently it’s a hand-me-down from my sister Lauren, so go Lauren! Thanks, sis. The kids will enjoy viewing the four existing episodes of Masha’s Spooky Stories repeatedly on Netflix. I never thought my kids would be watching a weird Russian cartoon, but then again, there are all sorts of Russian surprises these days.
Oh, I almost forgot. I had time to tweet this horrible joke at Steve Inskeep:
Until I saw his name on a book cover last year, I was sure the folks at NPR were referring to their totally tubular coworker, “Steveinsky.”
If he replies, I’ll be the happiest boy in the world.
Gina and Willie have arisen, so I’m off to do other things. Tomorrow morning we’ll attend an award ceremony in honor of someone I nominated. I hate to be so vague, but there’s a tiny chance they’d see this and ruin the surprise. I will say that without them, it’s likely our lives would have been a sad affair for a very long time. I will happily fill you all in tomorrow.
Too bad Keep Calm and Carry On is so cliché. They beat that dead horse to a pulp years ago, and I wish someone had made it viral today instead of back then. It would be a great slogan to rediscover, now that it’s actually time to keep a stiff upper lip. There’s something soothing about taking care of business and getting things done. Maybe it reminds us of what normalcy looks like. If making lists and checking them off is what it takes to get through this thing, well, Bea and I have half a tank of gas, two suckers, it’s nice out, and we’re wearing our seatbelts.
We’re on a mission from Bob.