The Day is Half Gone

It's after 11 a.m. here, and I just finished my morning routine. I spent 3.5 hours reading other peoples' blogs, and realizing that my own life falls seriously short of the sweet, funny, romantic blogs I've been reading. I  mean, you can't make up the kind of stuff I've seen in blogs this morning. Well, I can't anyway... Hence my feeling of insecurity. Anyway...

I had every good solid intention of getting up this morning, putting on my shoes, getting the kids out the door and starting in on my painting project yet again. I didn't. I couldn't. I didn't want to. Whatever excuse works for ya... I mean ME.

I think the novelty and sponteneity of the project has worn off, and now it feels like something else to be DONE. Like, dishes and laundry and vacuuming and and and and... I really wanted to be a good Flybaby and do it a little at a time, and did, for 2 whole days. Now I just want it done, 5 minutes ago. And now I hear a little buzzer in my head because I keep thinking "I don't have time," when what I mean is I don't have time to do it. All. Now. The Perfectionist Princess in me is running rampant today. Apparently I'm going to have to have a little talk with her. 

I have to pick up W from school at 3:00 to make a 3:30 appointment at the doctor's office, where I will then have to pay for the priveledge of telling him that the new meds are doing just fine, thankyouverymuch. And then I'll have to pay through the nose for a refill of said medication, as well as a refill for M's meds. UGH.

All I want to do is kick everyone, and I do mean EVERYONE out of the house for the next 2 days so I can work myself to near death completeing this project, without the thoughtfully sweet inquiries of my 3 children's voices saying, "Can I help?" The very thought brings on anxiety attacks and visions of paint on the carpet, upholstery and in the hair and on the clothes.... the mind boggles. 

The closest I will get to this goal is when my oldest 2 children are picked up by their "other dad" and whisked away for the weekend. I will still have to work around a mostly silent hubby, and my darling 8 yr old, C, who will be bgging me to let him play his video game, since apparently the weather cannot grant me grace of being pretty enough to send him outside to play with his friends. 

Ok, I think I'm done with this rant, and I will now go and attempt to clean the kitchen up from my late breakfast. After that, who knows. Maybe I'll have that talk with my inner princess and then set a few goals and rewards for her... and me.