Drank tea, chatted with Mike briefly before he left for work. Ships passing at crack of dawn.
Went to post office with MJ. Mailed one of Mike’s books and one ebay item. Felt, for the umpteenth time, completely baffled by the Priority Mail pricing system. Which box is flat rate? Why can I not master this?
Went to Trader Joe’s. Reveled in returning after a two-week (failed) experiment with Fresh and Easy. Bought chocolate treats to celebrate.
Stopped at Pazzo Gelato in Silverlake to pick up raffle prize for upcoming MOMS club luncheon. Got MJ a taste of “blood orange” gelato. Watched as she destroyed her new elephant shirt with it.
Took her to gym class. Called out “nice job!”
Had snacks outside. Ate most of a bag of peanut butter pretzels. Sickened myself.
Drove home. Forgot to get gas on way. Worried we wouldn’t make it up our hill.
Put MJ down for nap.
Called Merrill Lynch’s tech support. I couldn’t view and print my statement, which I needed for our mortgage refinance application. What is a plug-in? Why did eliminating it solve my problem? My computer is a mysterious beast upon whom I wholly rely. I should change that. I won’t.
Looked at 401K plan on line. Calculated that I will get about $9.50 a month, if I retire when I’m 82. Became anxious.
Tried to get on another financial website. Couldn’t remember answers to my security questions. Was quite sure I had never known them. My maternal grandfather’s first name? I never met the guy!
Called my mother to ask. Felt shame and horror that I had to.
Talked to her for twenty minutes.
Got off phone and typed in name. Wallace. Still could not log in. Realized I did not, after all, have an account at this particular institution. Whoops!
Called Delilah Bakery to seek donation for luncheon. Got a brunch for two. Determined to win it.
Got a call from Mike, who said to call the doctor, who had called him looking for me. Sigh.
Called doctor. She told me I needed a current TB test to complete my paperwork for MJ’s preschool application. Made appointment for the afternoon.
Decided to make a hair appointment for MJ at a kid’s salon near my doctor’s office. Called them. Seventeen bucks? Ouch. Made appointment anyway. MJ looks like a hair plugs commercial.
Called mortgage broker and went over application.
E-mailed our accountant to ask for a PDF of our 2011 tax return.
Went to MJ when she woke up. Changed her diaper. Loved her.
Walked dog. Watched as MJ swept street with a palm frond for fifteen minutes.
Returned home. Deposited dog.
Brought trash bins to curb.
Gathered deadheaded birds of paradise from yard. They have been there all week. Like a morgue for flowers out there. Put them in yard waste.
Gave MJ blueberries to eat in car and left for haircut.
Realized we were out of gas.
Stopped at Mobile.
Got to salon. Read to MJ throughout haircut to forestall a panic attack. Even so, cut came out badly. Hoped my energetic reading was not to blame.
Raced to doctor’s office, late. Was made to wait 40 minutes. Knew I was being punished for tardiness. Read horrendous books to MJ while waiting. Veggie Tales, “Highlights,” a book called “Germs,” and one called, unbelievably, “A Book About Disobeying.” Terrifying yet hilarious. I am changing doctors.
Got TB test.
Drove home, late for dinner. MJ was starving. Gave her rest of blueberries in car.
Made her dinner. Leftovers. Hallelujah!
Put her in bath. While she bathed: put in a load of wash, watered tomato plants, washed dinner dishes, brought out trash, put away a shipment of diapers, and put a new liner in the Diaper Genie. Washed hands to remove inevitable, infuriating poop contamination from latter. Continually checked MJ to make sure she was still alive.
Put her to bed. Sang usual song. Sounded terrible. Wondered if I am getting nodes.
Started to check e-mail.
Heard MJ call “I pooped!”
Changed massive blueberry explosion.
Put MJ to bed again.
Went back to checking e-mail. My accountant wrote. Reminded me he cannot send me 2011 return as we have not filed it yet.
Put away computer.
Took it back out.
Watched HBO Go using my mom’s log in. Felt guilty.