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November 4, 2003
Let me first off ask, HOW ARE YOU?
I’ve wondered. Honest.
But the truth of the matter is I’m so over my flipping head with life that I couldn’t stop by or drop in or even call. I logged on just now because I have something I need to look up on the internet. Convenient, since many times today I started thinking about how long it’s been since I last posted, and what I could write about that might be vaguely interesting. Thoughts like that mean I’m days away from posting. I daresay that’s a promise.
See the deal with me and this wonderfully, intriguing, powerfully supportive site is it took some serious prioritizing. I keep the diary first and foremost for my kids to hopefully cherish one day. Then for my memory, which happens to be shot. The network of people I met here has been incredible. But way back when, I walked a fine line when I got so caught up with everyone else’s lives…I don’t want to use the word waste…but I lost an awful lot of time here. So I prioritized. I won’t let it interfere with my family ever. While I was at work, it was easier to kill lunch hours catching up. In my mind I had this plan: keep my entries up to date first, then respond to anyone who graced my board, then scoot around to all the other diaries. But I’m only home full time here for this little bit of time and I just can’t peel myself away from everything long enough to get to all that. And it’s not just because of guilt, it’s because adding it to the pile of other things that need to be done is making the time pass so freaking fast.
All that to say, there’s a couple of people I want to catch up on BEFORE I post, and why not? I’m trying to think of some funny something I can leave you with till I get back, but for the life of me, all I can think of is what my cleaning lady asked me today. On Mondays she does my from the movies real Italian mother in-law’s house, Tuesdays is mine. Though we’ve discussed it a couple times before, today she HAD to know why my mother in-law covers EVERYTHING with forty five million blankets and towels and pieces of fabric when it’s just them living there. Really, you have to see it. I can’t explain why her exasperation at that very moment nearly killed me. A giggle erupted from way in me and then I was completely out of control. Hysterical if you will. It didn’t help that she calls me Anisun at the end of every sentence. Which reminds me of that kitchen guy we were working with who called me Alfen. Never in my life have I ever heard someone use a name so many times. While I tried so so hard to concentrate on what he was saying, Remo knew if he made so much as a sound or looked at me even, we would both be finished. Once you’ve missed those first couple opportunities when you’re not actually sure if you heard them right, you’re Alfen for life.
Now truthfully, I’m thinking I’d best slip out of here before I make even less sense,
Me
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