I left work a little early as Hunter needed to be driven to work. I picked him up in front of the gym as it seems to be the only landmark in uptown Saint John that he knows how to describe. It's all relative according to where the gym is. Where is the city market? Across from the gym. Where does Dad work? Ten blocks from the gym. Which Tim Hortons are you going to be at? The one around the corner from the gym and up the street a bit. Where does Mom work? Shrug...over there. No where near the gym.
Anyway, I loaded Hunter and his bookbag into the car (the contents of said bookbag are closely guarded and top secret). I never see homework coming out of it, the last report card is missing in action, but every day I do see a packed lunch go into the book bag. Occasionally an apple that has seen better days does emerge. I wish the report card would come out.
Oh yes, back to the reason...excuse...reason. I took Hunter to work and then stopped for a second at my favourite consignment store. I buy all my clothes there - it's too much fun getting cool stuff for next to nothing. The store was closed, so I headed home. Got home, unloaded the car except for the bookbag, put stuff away and started thinking about dinner. Was doing laundry when Michael ventured into the laundry room (I noticed he was looking around in complete bewilderment...where am I? read the look on his face) and asked if I were going out. I said I wasn't, and Michael said he was going to Clay's house after dinner.
At this point the thought of having a bass lesson has not yet entered my mind.
I continued with the laundry, made dinner, and cleared away the messy kitchen. Michael had left for Clay's house already. The phone rang; it was Esther from Moncton. We had not spoken before but we immediately connected as we share a passion for bluegrass - she is passionate about being involved in it and I am passionate about getting away from it. But, still.
We chatted for a bit and it was during the conversation that it occurred to me that I should give myself a bass lesson while Michael is out. Something Esther said may have triggered that thought, I'm not sure. Could have been "are you nuts letting your husband try to teach you anything?" or words to that effect. I'm paraphrasing. So, I thought I could give myself a lesson.
This is how the rest of the evening played out.
- Chatted with Esther and solved the problems of the bluegrass world and the rude people - nice talking with you Esther.
- Finished cleaning the kitchen - I noticed I was moving more slowly now... just making sure I do a good job, I think. I'm humming Polly Wolly Doodle. I turn the stereo in the kitchen on to Britney Spears.
- More laundry. It's just endless, that task.
- Those bathrooms need some serious elbow grease. I load up every can of spray anything and start cleaning. Marshall runs through my mind. I washed the floors too.
- Checked my email. Answered several and then started doing some electronic filing. Gotta keep that stuff caught up.
- More laundry. I'm thinking about Murphy. She sure does love that bass.
- Mallory is lying on the couch, watching TV. I crawl up on top of her and make her squeal like a stuck pig. I don't see the problem - I only outweigh her by 45 lbs or so. Jeepers.
- I get comfy on the couch with Mallory and we watch The Hills. I totally don't get that show, and I really don't get why they have The Hills After Show. What the heck? People with microphones sitting around a table discussing the lamest show ever. Like, why did Heidi try to weasel her way back into Audrina's life - was it really to tick Lauren off?
At this point it's getting late; I have to admit that the acting in The Hills makes Murphy and Marshall shine with Oscar like qualities. Never have they looked so good. Unfortunately, it's really late now, and I'm sleepy. Maybe tomorrow. Michael, are you going out again soon?
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