* why did I waste an entire evening watching another Portland Public school board meeting wherein the “Senators,” “Big Kahunas,” what the hell do they call themselves? “Directors!” That’s it. Wherein the “DIRECTORS!” spend the first four-fifths of the evening fawning over one another, handing out flowers, and taking pictures of themselves (I only wish I was kidding) and the last one-fifth of the evening hearing testimony wherein food service workers, custodians, teachers, parents, etc. beg the DIRECTORS, “Please don’t screw us over again. Please.”
* why am I turning over the garden, digging in the compost, weeding, all for someone else, this mysterious invisible person who is going to buy my house? Why? You know what the yard looked like when I got it? A rhody, a camellia, and about two dump trucks full of bark mulch that’s what it looked like. And the hideous neighbor’s hyena dogs who jumped over the (then four-foot cyclone) fence every night and “went” all over my yard. That’s what I started out with, bitches. Deal. Weed it yourselves. I know you’re just going to yank out the blueberries and hydrangea, anyway, so I might as well start detaching right now.
* (We pruned the rhody for you — it looks all tidy now.)
* The realtor: “Your kitchen is a negative.” Me: “You know what the kitchen used to look like? We had squirrels in the ceiling, knocking down the dropped ceiling tiles and shattering them on the kitchen floor. It was not pretty.” Deal, realtor. My kitchen is a positive, you know why? Vodka in the cupboard.
* I let the kids stay up late, but they had to do homework and behave themselves. They loved it. I’m going to have them do homework at 8 o’clock on Monday nights from now on.
* General Hospital. Why, oh, why won’t Lizzie just nyah-nyah at Lucky and tell him, already, “He’s Jason’s baby, not yours. Drop the custody suit.”
* If I don’t answer my phone tomorrow will I get in trouble?
* Will I care?
* Do you ever get sick of the phone ringing? With a cell phone, that’s two phones ringing. Double responsibility. When I’m working? The work cell phone and pager. Quadruple responsibility.
* I called our painter he will be here in a month. Again, why am I bothering to paint when whoever moves in here will say, blech, why antique white all over??? Blech! And repaint? Why bother?
* (Do you think I have a bad attitude?)
* Wacky Girl, last time we painted, “You know, some color is OK. There are colors other than white.”
* Wacky Boy, to everything I do, “You are a goody-good Mommy, I love you!”
* Wacky Girl, in response, “Why does he always get all the attention? Oh, right. He’s cute, he’s five.” (smacks her brother.)
* me, realizing I never told the Internet we got a new cat. We got a new cat! He is black and white, long-haired, with a long floofy tail that looks like a plume. He doesn’t meow he kind of… meooooowwwwwwwwwroools. That makes three cats. Three is a lot, it turns out, but he’s awfully cute. Not as cute as my dog was, but cute. Not as cute as my five-year-old is, or his sister, but cute.
, 
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