Then I wake up.
It's OK, no one really cares. I suppose they would if: a) they were well-written; and b) had focus and a point; and c) I was a celebrity, or close to one.
Insert the song, I promise I'll sing along: "la la la, whatever...la, la la, doesn't matter....."
Life gets in the way. I work part-time, coach two hockey teams, drive a kid to marching band practices and competitions, somehow raise all 4 of them. I see 'em off to school every morning and am usually there waiting when they get home every evening. In the space between I try to work or exercise or clean or run errands. Last week I completed over 10 hours of online hockey coach training. This was as fun as watching paint dry. Come to think of it, I have to put some paint up in my basement. And wash some clothes. Oh, and here come the holidays.
Jeee-zus. I think I sound like I need an apron. Take my word for it, though, I wouldn't look good in one.
Toss in the occassional men's league hockey games at 10:45 pm, for good measure. I might as well complain about everything, yes? Depending upon which relative you're talking to, I either do too much or not enough. Either way, I'm screwing up. Well, some things never change.
Leaves. I've been raking up lots and lots of leaves. My job will be ramping up later this week and I've been racing to get as much yard work done as I can before that happens (how Horatio Alger is that? I'm working hard for the reward of ....working more hard). I'm complaining, I know, but I admit that the work beats sitting around watching game shows.
Come by and chop down your own Xmas tree, I'll be around to take your cash....isn't that what the holiday's about?
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