A long time ago, back in March or April, I said I would be president of my kid's school PTA.
What the fuck was I thinking? I have no idea.
I have a tendency to agree to do things that I'm not really that into, just because I feel bad or guilty or think that maybe there is the off chance that it will be fun.
I'm still waiting for that to be true.
My problem, besides chronic volunteeritis, is that if I'm going to do a job, I want to do it perfectly. Not just well, but THE BEST EVER BAR NONE PERFECT.
Well, I am not doing this job perfectly or even just well, because I don't care. I mean, I'm not going to quit, but it's not that important to me. I think I am finally reaching that point in my life where I can do something, but I'm not going to go crazy about it.
Well, that's what I'm telling myself. I think I may just be trying to rationalize away doing a half-assed job. Which is one half ass more than most people do with the PTA, so I win?
I'm down to my last 1/2 dose of antibiotics for Sickfest 2010. It's a 1/2 dose because I dropped a pill and it landed on my dirty, filthy floor, and say what you will about the 5 second rule, there are some days where it just does not apply.
I'm still using my inhaler, though not as often. I feel like a complete nerd and will start carrying it in my pocket protector- perhaps you recognize me from every 1980s movie?
I'm also using my ear drops because I still cannot hear out of my right ear. Although this morning I did hear a knock knocking on what I thought was the window. It took me a while to check, because I'm still not over having watched The Strangers.
Luckily, it was daylight and when I looked there wasn't anyone there. I'm telling myself it was a squirrel. Trying to borrow a cup of sugar. Our squirrels are very neighborly.
It definitely wasn't that guy. Definitely.
I started reading Where the Girls Are by Susan J. Douglas, and while I LOVED Enlightened Sexism, I'm not that into this book. It's very Baby Boomer-centric, and I just can't get behind that.
On the plus side of reading, I was so sick last week that I couldn't go to book club, and thus avoided the whole how do I tell you that your book choice sucked ass situation.
If I had a million dollars, I would buy you a house. And I would also buy me a condo, because I hate yard work.