Ms. Frazzle

I would love to be compared to the lovable science teacher from The Magic School Bus series, Ms. Frizzle.

Alas, today, I can only call myself Ms. Frazzle.

It all began yesterday, when, after finishing a job of proofing, I chose to take a nap.  A two-hour nap. I ate a late lunch and then spent the evening doing prep work for my next proofing job.

Then I went to bed and did not sleep well. Probably because of that two-hour nap. My Fitbit informed me that I got less than five hours of sleep. Tattletale.

I had gotten up at 6 a.m.  I decided to try and get a couple more hours of sleep and take a shower when I woke up again. So I set my alarm for 8 a.m. I'm not sure how much I slept, but the alarm went off at 8 a.m., I got out of bed . . . and that is when my son decided to take his shower.

In the words of an old Molly Hatchet song, the kid was flirting with disaster.

To be fair, he had no idea I wanted to take my shower at 8. He normally showers at 6:30. Today he didn't have to work so he took his shower later.

So I threw on clothes and ate breakfast. I made myself a smoothie and thought about making eggs, but since the price of eggs these days is comparable to the price of gold and/or precious gems, I only had the smoothie (yogurt, kale, and strawberries) in order to save the eggs. (This is how frazzled I was: I didn't realize until much later that I had leftover oatmeal I could have had with that smoothie!)  I also made myself some coffee, even though my sensitive bladder doesn't like it. This was a day where I said, "Bladder be danged, I need the caffeine."

Then I chatted online with my BFF, who is at a writing workshop in Vegas (yes, that Vegas) and graciously shared with me a story she wrote. The subject was a fantasy caper.  I described it as "Leverage meets Ocean's 11 meets Star Wars meets Harry Potter." I laughed at several lines and she told me that some things I liked, the workshop teacher liked also. I'm glad to know that the workshop leader and I both have good taste. (My BFF has been a professional writer for over a decade. I told her recently she'd come a long way in her writing and I was very proud of her.)

And then I looked at my Google Calendar, and my iPhone . . . and discovered it was 9:30 . . . and I had a counseling appointment at 10.

So I terminated the chat, fast, and dashed out the door, after taking a needed bathroom break.

I had planned to take the coffee with me. I was halfway to the office when I realized that the coffee I needed was back at the house.

Five minutes later than I wanted to, I arrived at the therapist's office, had to dash inside for another bathroom break (blame either the coffee or the smoothie) and texted my son, is there anything I can get while I'm out?

His response: "Chips."

So I hurried into the therapist's office, told her about the morning's events, and I think she was amused. We had a good session where I talked about Christmas, a trip to Florida, and the murder of a rat (a real one; he died at the hands of a mousetrap due to a overdeveloped taste for peanut butter).

On the way home, I spent too much money at the gas station because our governor, after a year, allowed his suspension of the gas tax to expire so gas, at its least expensive in my area, is about 3.00 a gallon. (On my way to the therapist's office, I stuck my tongue out at a local gas station.)

I then spent too much money at the grocery store (although I will not apologize for twenty dollars of it. It's a gift card for someone who's just had surgery.) Had I decided to buy more eggs, I might have had to consider taking out a small loan. I did get the chips, per my son's request.

So finally, Ms. Frazzle made it home and relaxed over lunch and cold coffee. I ended up reheating it (and then putting an ice cube in because it came out of the microwave too hot!)

I spent the afternoon and evening at the computer, with a dinner break. Now I'm splitting my time writing this and chatting with my BFF.  She's telling me about what's she's learned. She takes her craft very seriously, which makes her a good writer.

I will be going to bed in a few minutes. There will be no proofing for me over this long weekend; my son has an appointment tomorrow, and I have an office to clean up on Friday. And I think my husband and I may end up tackling the garage and will probably be thrown for a 30-yard loss.  He and I may meet the same fate as the Texas Christian University Horned Frogs met at the hands of the Georgia Bulldogs earlier this week.

So if you hear a loud burp near the Atlanta area, it's my garage having a snack on two humans.

On the other hand, if you see a school bus magically transform into a vehicle that will go exploring . . . I will not be the one driving it. After all, I am more Ms. Frazzle than Ms. Frizzle.

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.