This is how my day was supposed to look yesterday:

*7:30 am–Get up before husband and Owen, take shower and make quick run to store for bread (I don’t know that it’s important for you the reader to know that my house ran out of bread, but there it is. I bought honey whole wheat, if you’re interested)

*8:45 am–Greet mother-in-law who arrives to watch feral adorable offspring

*9:00am–car packed and ready to go, with both of us in it and on the road, to return husband to N. Carolina

*1:30pm–back in VA, stop by work for a little bit to put out any potential fires from weekend

*4:30pm–back home and in for the rest of night

This is how the day really went:

*7:15 am–alarm goes off. Snooze button repeatedly forcibly hit

*7:38 am–phone rings, husband called in for Jury Duty. Wha? But we sent a letter to the judge (based on crap advice given by Sherriff’s Department when work situation explained). Answer: Do not pass go, do not collect $200, husband better be at Jury Duty @ 9am or else.

*7:50am: Discover that house is slightly brisk due to Furnace having given up the ghost at some point during the previous night

*8:00 am-10:00 am– wait wait wait…

*10:15am–husband home from Jury Duty. Dismissed! Great, now we can get on the road and still make good time!

*11:30am–tinker with uncooperative furnace. Crap crap crap.

*2:00pm–FINALLY leave for N. Carolina. Try to repeatedly display homicidal feelings towards husband through STARE OF DEATH. Unfortunately, STARE OF DEATH does not seem to be penetrating.

*6:30pm–Return home to VA. House feels almost welcoming warmth-wise; furnace must be working! Nope–just a super efficient space-heater.

*7:30pm–Landlord and wife come over to look at furnace–landlord manages to touch something that causes an electrical arc and smoke to pour out of furnace motor. Crap crap crap.

*11:00pm–give up and go to bed and hope Tuesday goes more according to plan.

A few things have tripped up the week and apparently I sounded a little on edge when I talked to my mother-in-law earlier because she offered (and totally wouldn’t take no for an answer!) to take Owen for the night and all day tomorrow so I could get a few things done.

This is the first time I’ve had the house alone to myself since before Owen was born.

 Yee-haw!

Guess how I’m celebrating?  Totally taking the last solitary Tylenol PM rattling around in the bottle and going to bed for a *full* and *uninterrupted* night’s sleep, all before midnight.

Seriously Internet–what am I going to do with all this freedom sleep?

(Note to self: must work on upping ‘the crazy’ tone in voice before calling mother-in-law more often)

And for all you out in SE Idaho, that would be pronounced theee-yay-ter.  Just wanted to clear that up before I start.

You know how I’ve been really annoying with my last two posts being all, “…blah blah blah, sick sick sick, sinus infection, Dr. visit, antibiotics, blah blah blah…”?  Well, hold onto your hats because I am sick again.  Not sick as in, oh woe and misery, I’m still sick, but more of the wow, those 10 days of antibiotics really did work and I feel great for about three days before I realize that I have caught something else and am once again buying Kleenex in bulk and trying to cough up a lung at various intervals throughout the day variety.  On the plus side (because really, when you’re producing so much mucus that you start to worry a little that your next stop on the evolutionary chain is ’slug’, all you have are the few bright spots), the current variety of virus that has come to visit seems less virulent over all, Owen does not appear to have it as well and being sick for nearly a month now has really been helping out with that New Year’s Resolution to lose some weight and get more in shape.  Although, with regard to the last, I’m a little concerned that once I am finally germ-free, I’ll pass out within seconds of setting foot on the treadmill due to working overtime on making an imprint of my butt on the couch cushions. 

Other bright news from the weekend:

* On Saturday (the last day before we started to live in temperatures resembling the Arctic Tundra, not SW Virginia), Owen and I went outside to play and upon re-entry in the house discovered that we had both managed to step in mystery dog poop somewhere in the backyard.  I say mystery poop because we never saw it until I smelled it after walking all over the house.  Yet another time that I am so so thankful for having hardwood and not carpet.

* My beautiful happy Owen has disappeared and in his place is someone…well, let’s just say that if the current Owen living with us doesn’t return the original version and post-haste, I’ll be forced to list him on Craig’s List.  So far bedtime is taking 2+ hours on a good night (and even then, he only stays asleep for 1 hour max intervals), any response of ‘No’ or something similar (no matter how nicely said) brings on a 10+ minute tantrum, complete with stampy foot and tears, and diaper changes have become something unbearable for both of us (bucking thrashing toddler + diaper filled with something the consistancy of pudding= disaster for all).  If only I could figure out a way to bottle his discontent and re-sell as either audio birth control or a weapon of mass destruction and I’d have it made.  This has also made me extremely glad, for the moment, that my plan to take over the world through re-population isn’t going quite according to plan (translation: I’m still not pregnant, but we’re still diligently working on that).

I haven’t forgotten about my contest, but I’m putting it on hold until I feel better because I seriously feel that all my creativity is coming out as well each time I blow my nose.

 Hopefully your weekend was better–anybody do anything more fun than stepping in dog poop?