It was one of those days where I was all over the place. I’m not sure how this differs from most days, but I managed to put what felt like 60 miles on my car while only making repeated trips between our house and Caroline’s school.
I’m leaving for Birmingham tomorrow morning (which will be today by the time you read this) and so I’d agreed to eat lunch with Caroline because OH THE MOM GUILT that overtakes me when I leave for the weekend. But then we got a note home reminding us of the Book Fair and so I ended up spending half my morning at the book fair buying books and a soccer poster that I will live to regret. Then I dashed home to finish my fashion presentation for the dotMom conference this weekend because procrastination is alive and well at my house.
And then I ordered a couple of sandwiches for lunch, picked them up and headed back up to the school so we could catch up on everything we’d missed about each other in the forty-five minutes we’d been apart.
After I left the school I ran to get a quick pedicure. Not so much because I needed a fresh pedi, but more because my big toe incurred some sort of unfortunate injury that left the toenail in need of repair.
(For the record there are few words that gross me out more than “toenail”.)
(Also on my list would be “ointment”.)
Lucky for all involved in the dotMom conference, I was able to get my toenail repaired and then I headed straight to pick up Caroline from school. She had just enough time to grab a quick snack at home before I had to drive her right back to the school to interview the participants in a local parade for an after school class.
Thirty minutes later I had to go back to the school to pick her up, get her dressed for soccer practice, help her finish her math vocabulary (What’s a quotient? Who cares about quotients? Why can’t everything just be a sum?) and try to fix dinner while she and P were at practice.
Oh and then I needed to pack for my trip to Birmingham since my flight leaves first thing in the morning.
And I hadn’t even thought about what I was going to wear.
Which isn’t like me AT ALL and made me concerned I was coming down with the flu. Or the yellow fever.
Anyway, at some point I managed to get dinner on the table and homework in the folder and I fried up bacon in the pan and never let you forget that I’m a woman. Enjoli.
That commercial has been deeply embedded in my subconscious for most of my life. It also explains some lingering questions I’ve had about why my Nanny’s Fleetwood Cadillac always smelled like perfume. Because eight hours? That’s a long time for anything. Much less something that reeks of musk and orchids.
And now I realize I’ve told you about my entire day and this whole thing is probably completely boring and I feel really bad about that. I’d do something about it if I wasn’t so tired and just wanting to go to bed.
But I have to be up at the crack of dawn to finish cramming things into one carry-on suitcase and obsessing about all the things I’ve potentially forgotten that can’t possibly be purchased at a CVS store in Birmingham, Alabama.
All of this is a long way of saying that I’m not entirely sure that I’ll be able to write Fashion Friday. I know that makes at least three of you very sad but I just don’t think I’m going to have time. Rumor has it that I have to do things like soundcheck and memorize cue cards.
At least I think there will be cue cards.
What if there aren’t cue cards?
Now I’m never going to sleep.
(In case you have no idea what I’m talking about, Sophie and I are emceeing the dotMom conference this weekend in Birmingham. And I’m teaching a breakout session on fashion. And Sophie wrote a hilarious background post about the whole thing that you can read right here.)
(Also, if you’re going to be at dotMom this weekend please come say hi. My nerves and I would love to meet you.)