A three minute post

Oh boy, it’s three minutes to five o’clock and I still haven’t posted for the day. Where did the day go? Other than catching up and putting out a brush fire or two, I’ve been sitting here shell-shocked. Travel does that to me. Poor Grace probably thinks I’m mad at her because I practically had a melt down at the Japanese bookstore, freaking out that I might not get to the airport on time and haven’t written her yet to tell her I’m not. I have to get to the airport early. Especially in LA. You can never count on the traffic. It’s so busy busy busy, like an impromptu anthill created by a syrup spill. I have to get to the airport early for reasons beyond the obvious. I need that time to sit waiting by the gate, to calm down after all the hassle of practically disrobing for the security line. I read. With earplugs on. People think I’m weird because I wear earplugs in public (it doesn’t seem fair; they’d think nothing of head phones). I have to do something to shut out all of that extraneous noise. I bought a case of them. Okay, not a case. A box of 100 pairs. For someone with a sensory disintegration disorder, ear plugs are a miracle, a godsend (try ’em on your ADHD kid). Unfortunately, you can’t wear them around people if you’re socializing as much as you may want to. So, I need time to reintegrate, before I get on the plane, with ear plugs and a book. Getting there late means no time to calm down before I have to re-situate myself in the plane. This is probably TMI but twice in as many days, people have commented at how together I seem to be and how much I get done. This always surprises me. Obviously, I just fake it well from here. Better to ask my husband as to when I last vacuumed the carpets.

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  1. mc says:

    Yeah, but we don’t see what’s not happening with your carpet, so that doesn’t count.

    RE bookstore, what did you think? I am usually disappointed when I go. I don’t give a darn about homemaking magazines or Nihongo novels.

  2. You might be surprised how few of the rest of us vacuum our carpets… and still we don’t manage to get much else done either. Carpet-vacuuming would be an impossibly high standard of togetherness for me. (Which is why I have no carpets. They would just get way too gross.)

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