As opposed to what I should be doing.

Right now, I should be finishing up the matriculation and the typing of my exams, I should be doing dishes and washing clothes, scrubbing  a bathroom, making lesson plans for the few days left before exams, and for my extra classes. I should be making sure my worksheets are in order, and printed and spellchecked.

I should be ensuring that my cupboards are stacked with the ingredients I need to make the cakes I’ve been assigned for the function that I hope to go to… to relax. I should be planning dinner and my Christmas menu. Hell right now I should be at Church, trying to absorb some of the good vibes and energetic singing and soulful oratorical of my pastor. I should have rolled out of bed at 5 this morning, to wrangle the protesting tribe into Sunday best then into the car.

I should be spending time with the kids, and snuggling with the Mr, while cooking a grand Sunday breakfast spread. I should be reading that book I’ve been trying to finish since I finished reading Ashes: a Broken Inception. I should be finishing up my transcripts because for all of NaNoWriMo I’ve only written 8000 words and the month is almost over, and I know I’m gonna beat myself up for not finishing like I promised myself, perhaps foolishly, that I would.

Right now instead of doing all that, I’m sitting in front my laptop, composing a post about that list so large it overwhelms me into complete and total inaction. And later?

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I will go to the supermarket, clean the kitchen, and cook. I’ll cook, because nobody else can do it like I can, a macaroni pie, or maybe potato salad, depends on which one allows me to hide the most vegetables. With some baked chicken and Pork with BBQ sauce, with corn on the cob.

I’ll probably bake some brownies too, because when I get like this I crave sweet things, and I don’t think it’s gonna help me at all to deny myself.

Somewhere in all of that, I’ll point out to the tribe that they themselves pointed out to me earlier this very week that I need a break, and delegate unto them the household. Period.

My Mom will surely come by, and I will take the opportunity to take a load off while listening to her shenanigans and adventures for the week  and listen to her opinionate on all things, from the old time days to politics in the land. We’ll laugh a little and then we will part ways.

By the time I’m done it will be time for dinner. I’ll moan around the fork because it’s all gonna be delicious, and look at my unit plans and pick the objectives I will test, even though I’m sure some of my students spent this weekend fete-ing instead of studying and will write such things on the papers that I will be driven right back here in bewilderment. I might even try to pen a few questions, we’ll see how that one goes.

Then it will be time for The Walking Dead, the one 2 hour a week I take for myself, 3 now that AMC has gifted me with Into the Badlands. When me and the Chief and all the other TWD fans in our circle moan and groan at the TV like they can hear us, then hold conclave over the practicality and the philosophy and sociology of this fictional zombie apocalypse in conjunction with Twitter, Facebook and Chris Hardwick.

Yep by them it will be midnight, or maybe later depending on the conversation, and I shall curl up in bed pressed up against my portable space heater husband, because the night is a chilly seventy odd of 60 odd degrees Fahrenheit. Don’t judge me, for a tropical chick that is blanket weather.

Yep that’s what will occur, as opposed to writing exams and neglecting all I hold dear in the name of the uphill battle called teaching, or pretending to be the one woman Juggernaut who can hold down this whole big fort by herself while everyone else has a feet-up-Sunday.

Who’s with me?



8 thoughts on “As opposed to what I should be doing.

  1. I went to church on Saturday night but I did sing and I promised to sing bright and early on Thursday, which is a holiday and I’m off work for it. So that makes up for a Sunday in front of my pc, Doesn’t it?


      1. I always feel guilty when I go to other masses and help out the cantor instead of singing with the full choir at the high mass. I feel guilty because I miss choir practice and because I sometimes sing with my old choir before vising my parents on weekends. It’s a viscous cycle. Why is there so much guilt in religion these days?


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