Mid-Forties

Here’s the thing.

Seriously. Here’s the thing. This is a personal blog. I don’t lay claim to collecting large sums of money pouring in because of my writing about the crazy shit that happens in my world. I get that. I think that you – by being here now – get that, too. According to my site, I haven’t updated on house projects since August. The deal is, the kitchen will never be fully finished and I haven’t felt a need to post on it. And then fall. And my son’s a senior. And then holidays. And my daughter started a new sport. And I started a new job. And. And. And. You understand.

But tonight! I’ve written this whole post in my head already and wanted to share! because there will be [should be] more posts as a follow up. The kid’s a senior! So many thoughts!

Thing Two is at a gathering at the skating rink with “like 15 people Mom” and needs to not only be picked up, but also be the chauffeur for others when they’re done at 9:00. Fine.

Mostly fine. Captain S and I want to see a friend whose band is playing at the local dive bar tonight. They go on at 9:00. Same time as what’s-her-name requires a driver.

Okay fine. Date night starts late.

Captain S went to get the skaters and I head upstairs to work on the head. I’m sporting a killer cold sore/canker sore combo right now and makeup ‘isn’t really my thing’ so there is a limited amount of prep that can camouflage the fact that I look like a troll under a bridge. I curl my hair, which is in need of a haircut stat, and burn my forehead. Fortunately it hasn’t blistered yet so maybe Captain S won’t notice.

Who am I kidding? It hurts like a mofo and I’m certain to complain about it if we go out. If we go out? It’s date night! Go out! Listen: we are middle aged, have teens, and are tired. There’s a stronger chance of snoring by 10:00 than us going out at this point. And besides, I should probably stay home and ice my forehead.