Wouldn't that be awesome if I had something worthwhile to say? People would be checking my blog because they wanted to know what I'd written. Crap like that. Instead, I just sort of complain a lot, and talk about boring things. Like this:
We've decided we can only shop on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. This is designed to make it so we sicken ourselves with our spending because it's happening all at once, so we will spend less. However, even as we speak Persephone is at Sam's Club. (It's cool, though, because she's combining a Sam's Club trip with a Baby X cardiologist appointment, so that's why it's happening on a Friday.) And just to show how serious we are about this thing: Crazy Jane is worried about it. She asked me last night, "What happens if there's a storm coming and we need to buy food and it's not a Tuesday, Thursday, or Saturday?" My wife and I don't worry to our kids, but they've picked it up from somewhere. It's almost like they're my sister-in-law's kids, who very nearly have panic attacks over things they can't control.
Oh, another boring thing no one cares about: Baby X got booted from our bedroom this week. He's been moved into the "office-slash-playroom," which our kids always just called the "slash-playroom." My office is gone, turned back into a small desk in our bedroom (smaller than the original one I built for us when we moved here). Now that I don't have to worry about my alarm waking him up in the morning, I have one more excuse for staying in bed and continually pressing snooze.
Another thing: when I get up early here in Kansas (like today at 3:30), I think, "When we lived in California I wouldn't even be asleep by now." When I worked for the city government we'd go through periods when our bedtime was between 12 and 1, but when I quit and was going to school fulltime, our bedtime became 2. That would be 4 here. At 4 this morning I was doing crap statistics homework. It's just interesting to think about.
I'm the only one still at work right now, so I don't have to do a damn thing, and it's glorious.
Let's see--what else--oh, I want to talk a little bit about "The Bachelorette," with the caveat that everything I know about the show I've learned by watching "Primetime in No Time" on yahoo.com. I remember when we lived in California and had cable (which made Persephone laugh a couple nights ago; "We used to think that was worth spending money on!") and the contestants on "The Bachelor" (there was no "Bachelorette" yet) would be very coy about whether they'd gotten it on. Usually it was pretty apparent each date ended alone until there were just two or three left, and then it was ambiguous. Now, evidently, there is a "Fantasy Suite" that the whore--I mean bachelorette--can invite the dude to for the night. On national television. I guess I can understand the whole "Fantasy Suite" idea, since I have one of my own. It has no baby crib in it.