But when I woke up, I opened an email from my friend. They had left VA at 4:30AM their time. Yikes! Quickly, I gathered my wits and zoomed through the upstairs to get it ready for a family of four. Pumped up the Queen Air Mattress, and the two twins. Made the beds, cleaned the bathroom, and dusted the rest of the room (did I gripe a few days ago about my DH being underfoot? I take it all back--he totally helped me get the room together!).
Many droplets of sweat later, I took a much needed shower. Well, maybe now, I thought, I'd write. Nope. Eye Doctor called -- darling daughter's contacts in. Off we went to the eye doctor at 12PM to see if the left eye contact was correct. An hour later, we were assured she had 20/20 vision and away we went.
Meanwhile, I get a call. The friends are about an hour away. Great. I had already promised my darling daughter she could visit with her friends till 6PM. But when was I to drop her by her friend's house?
Mad texting occurred over the course of several achingly LONG minutes. Why do these kids not TALK on their phones? I have the answer: no minutes left to speak. Apparently texting is unlimited so we are handcuffed by the teens' loquaciousness about one day into their cell phone bill.
We are informed we have a bit of time. Off we drive to my pharmacist to get progesterone (because I have the hormone levels of a 70 year old post-menopausal woman), and then to the party store to get a bouquet of balloons to welcome my neighbor's new baby girl home. Woohoo! Apparently she has the hormone levels of a much younger woman (she's 40).
Home we go. Eat lunch. Watch BONES on DVD. Await call about the daughter drop. Daughter drop call arrives. We leave. I with grocery list in hand. Drop daughter, go to grocery store, buy dinner items, home to unload items, and start marinade just before our friends arrive.
Mad, quick, wonderful visit with friends. Wine, food, talk, play with girls, set up alarms, plan their return on the way back.
I tumbled into bed at 11PM. At 4:20AM, I hear my poor decrepit aged cat yowling at the top of her lungs. Dear Lord. I bounce out of bed, hair in a tangled mess, and step out to hallway leading to the garage. Dear friends are loading their van, poor cat incredibly confused (heck, my GF is blond as well), and they are profusely apologetic.
No need to apologize say I. Silly cat would wake me up anyway. Off they go. I turn out the lights and crawl back into bed with purring old cat.
Wake up. Take darling daughter to hair appointment with computer and revision pages in tow. DD's daughter takes 3.5 hours. I write almost as long. Chapter 13 almost finished. I think it is crap, but at least this crap is moving along. As we are paying for hair (don't ask how much), DD is arranging movie ticket to see UP. I bring her home, print out the tickets, turn around, drive her to the theater, then off to the bank, and then home. Shower (finally!) and now I am too tired to write another dang word (at least a creative one in which all my plot and character problems flow with ease).