My Turn To Have Angst!

So . . . my turn to try a little angst!  I’ll start small.  How about just lamenting over a day?  Here we go . . .

I am so done with today.  Meh.

It’s the first stay-home day of homeschool since Christmas break.  Breaks from school are the worst, because they end.  The kids are all like, this is so haaaarrrrrd.  The older one says, what is this question about, forces on the books and the table?  What do they wannnnnt?  As though he didn’t just read the material.  As though he’s never even heard of gravity.

The younger one hops around like a squirrel on amphetamines.  For six hours.  Then math devolves into tears.  Seriously.  I’ve got Tom Hanks inside my head, protesting:  there’s no crying in math!  There’s no crying in math!

I make the mistake of reading the full lesson plan in older son’s curriculum.  A research paper with a thesis?  Hello, lead balloon.  I don’t even try with the younger son’s.  Why oh why aren’t they close enough in age to share the same lesson plan?

The dog does not get walked.  The laundry does not get folded.  The Christmas tree is still sulking in the corner of the front room, a few ornaments hanging on limp branches, the storage bins and pine needles littered all around.

Dinner will consist of baked potatoes served with whatever leftovers the family can stomach putting next to them.  The fudge in the fridge will not firm up properly, because I used too much evaporated milk because the stupid recipe called for less than one can, and what am I supposed to do with the rest, anyway?

Here’s a list of more things I haven’t done today:  exercise, shower, leave the house.  No, taking the recycling out to the garage doesn’t count.

I got that Instalanche, so that was pretty sweet, but do you know what that means?  Me, compulsively checking for more comments, and getting distracted with who-knows-what online, and spending way too much time with my face in this here screen and my butt in this here recliner.

It’s dark now.  I guess the day is done.  So, that’s all I have to complain about.  How’d I do?

Tagged: ,

10 thoughts on “My Turn To Have Angst!

  1. Citizen Tom 8 January 2013 at 7:29 pm Reply

    Quite a feat getting an Instalanche.

    There is an old saying: No good deed goes unpunished (

    Apparently, life was not intended to be fair. My guess is that God wanted us to have children so we would understand when He calls us His children.

  2. AHLondon (@AHLondon_Tex) 9 January 2013 at 12:43 am Reply

    Spot on Tom.
    NoOne, different details, but kinda the same day. I only got out of the house to pick up a sick kid at school—at 8:30am no less. Might I suggest, next time, using the leftover condensed milk in strong coffee. Vietnamese coffee will get you out of any chair, especially when accompanied with fudge.

  3. AFVet 9 January 2013 at 10:40 am Reply

    Linda, did you send me an e-mail concerning a password ????
    The e-mail was signed Lina.

  4. AFVet 9 January 2013 at 12:36 pm Reply

    Check your e-mail Linda.
    Cheers !

  5. Jim Fister 15 January 2013 at 6:07 pm Reply

    Hmmm… quit whining, pull up your own darn pants, wipe your nose, and get on with tomorrow.

    But I did sympathize with you for at least a minute.

    • nooneofanyimport 15 January 2013 at 6:09 pm Reply

      ha! I’m terrible at reading b/t the lines, so I missed the sympathy part . . .

      PS speaking of tomorrow. That un-firmed fudge made a great cake icing.

  6. Saraspondence 20 January 2013 at 3:57 pm Reply

    Relating to this. Totally relating (even though I’m only homeschooling one) the list of what doesn’t get done is frequently longer than what’s crossed off. Glad to find you via FreedomByTheWay…

    • nooneofanyimport 21 January 2013 at 5:37 pm Reply

      Glad to meet you, Sara! I would think that homeschooling one would be harder than two, actually. Having a set play mate and chatting partner there, and also the older one can often help the younger one. Well sometimes. If he isn’t too derogatory in his instruction delivery.

  7. […] My Turn To Have Angst! […]

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