Parking Lot Aerobics

Dear T.

When does it ever slow down around here? My planner just never stops filling itself up. It’s the planner, not me. I even try to squirrel it away in the bottom my bookbag, but it keeps gushing out like a zit gone wild. Did you ever see the episode of Family Guy where the son is talking his zit? I can’t remember the zit’s name. I should call J on the cell and ask him. He is a fantastic fountain of useless information. It’s useless in the sense that he will not save lives spouting his wisdom. Know what I mean? However, in this case, picking his brain would be handy and make me laugh. Anyway, what were we talking about? Oh yeah, my planner.

It was Doug! The zit’s name was Doug. I didn’t even dial J’s number. I remembered it all on my own. But still, I might call him because he is the only one who would truly appreciate this moment of extreme clarity. Back to the planner.

B has senior kindergarten on days 1, 3, and 5 next year. That means every week will be different, and PA days will bump the days the following week. This 6-day cycle of craziness added to J’s never-ending random schedule equals one fried brain. There will definitely be people left waiting in the cold for rides home come fall. If I can remember where everyone is every single day next year, I will be worthy of a medal. Whatever happened to Monday to Friday? I am slowly inputting all the different timetables into my planner, and I think this job calls for a multitude of different coloured highlighters. Yes. That’s what is needed. I can do this.

Are you sure you need to add beaded jewellery to your crafty repertoire? When do you draw the line? I admit it looked fairly simple, but imagine all the new ‘notions’ and accessories you will need to buy. Lord knows I don’t need another tool. And I admit that I spent about half an hour planning my first furoshiki bag - I probably misspelled that.

Looking at my planner, I have an hour of knit club and an hour of parking lot aerobics, and I must make sure J gets to work by 7 p.m. No sweat!



Hall in the Kitchen said...

What ..may I ask.. is parking lot aerobics?