So I was talking to a friend the other night, a friend who may be tinkering around with the idea of starting her own blog, and I said something to her like, “There is no shortage of fun, interesting things out there to share with your readers, even if your own life isn’t blog-worthy that day.” And since today doesn’t feel that blog worthy, I give you, dear readers, a day in the life of more interesting others.
From the always insightful and entertaining Mimi Smartypants:
Yesterday as I walked to the bus stop, at 6:30 in the morning, a guy sprinted past me in the other direction carrying a gallon jug of vodka. Early morning vodka emergency. I think we’ve all been there. I was impressed with how he was carrying it straight out in front of him like a fishbowl—that takes serious forearm muscles. Maybe he was a superhero. Super EnablerMan, to the liquor store and back, faster than a speeding blender! Stronger than pangs of hangover regret! Able to leap tall beer kegs in a single bound!
Or from Brooklyn’s VERY FUNNY Mr. Nice Guy
greetings from square one, which is where we’re back to. we officially have no childcare. none.
the temporary nanny has gone off to her permanent gig. i called our main nanny yesterday and put it this way to her: we really want you to come back to work. i understand you have complications on your wounds, but we kinda need someone to take care of the baby. we’re willing to work with you. tell us when you can come back and we’ll manage until then. if you can’t tell us when you’ll be back, we have to hire someone else.
her response? “do what you gotta do.”
doing what we “gotta do” now entails me being at home today and not working. it also entails mrs nice guy being home for the rest of the week. it entails finding a nanny who is free on tuesday, wednesday and friday (totally conventional schedule, right?) and hiring her so she can start TUESDAY. it entails posting a desperate plea on listservs and hectoring friends. it entails not sleeping. it entails stressing the fuck out.
of course all this is happening on a day where the kid has decided to bail on her morning nap. i have spent the past six hours trying to keep her awake so she could make as smooth a one-nap transition as possible. i am doing this on five hours of sleep myself. i am doing this on fumes. and also it’s raining outside. i am going so stir crazy i feel like richard pryor and gene wilder all wrapped into one person, only funny. blissfully, she just went down. i breathed a sigh of sweet release. and then? then the neighbor’s new shitty little daschund, who has apparently been left alone at home, is yip-yip-yipping NONSTOP and it sounds like it is trapped in the air vent directly above the baby’s crib.
have you ever tried to dig your own eyeballs out with one of those rubber baby spoons?
Update on Henry:
Thanks for your sweet and thoughtful comments. A few days of rest and a few hits of meds and the little fella is back to what he does best—cruisin’ and bruisin’. No fever at all and a big smile on his face, even as he hits the floor. Again. And again.