I Should Be Working, But…

I get so damn bored in this office on Saturdays. During the week I have Ollie with me, and I’ll admit, it is sometimes frustrating because something that normally would take me 5 minutes takes 2 hours. But on the flip side, when I come in on Saturday and have everything done in 5 minutes, the next two hours and 55 minutes seem like they just drag on and on and on……
However, today, I haven’t finished everything yet. I’ve been fighting with my Outlook trying to get some listing docs printed, and a reimbursement form. I got mad and needed a break. I’ll probably do the work later, right before I have to leave. Yeah. Sounds good to me.
So I’m looking for more birth stories. I’ll take anything I can get. I know I wanted a ton before I had Ollie, but if you didn’t give me your birth story before, I’ll take it now. Sometimes I kick around the idea of starting a blog where people submit their birth stories. How much fun would that be? All you moms-to-be would probably be all over it, reading every detail over and over. Or maybe that was just me. I’m just anal enough that I like to be prepared for anything and everything that might happen. My labor was not like anyone else’s that I read, though, so I guess it wasn’t a huge help. But if you’re bored, or already wrote it down to remember forever, or feeling generous, I’d love the details.
Man, I bet some people think I’m messed up.
It is kind of crazy to think that if I pound the courses out and if I get into every program immediately that Ollie will be in first grade when I finish. That is, however, a big “if”. Competition is insane. However, Nick said that he’ll move, whatever it takes to get me where we want to be. And that’s okay with me. At one point I was completely convinced that I wanted to raise all my babies in Mora. My dream, secretly, would be that we’d end up in/around Duluth somewhere. I’d live on the outskirts if I could get a job at St. Mary’s or something. My kids could be in orchestra, (if they wanted to of course!) and even if we weren’t within the Duluth school district, I would drive them to school every day. I would really love to live there. I’ve been enchanted by Duluth since I first saw it – or at least remember seeing it. We were going to visit my uncle, who lived in Superior. When we came over that hill, the lights twinking on the water of gorgeous Lake Superior, (it was night) I was awestruck. If I wanted to live in a city, Duluth would definitely be my first choice.
Oh boy, now it’s “Jingle Bell Rock”. Holly Prusek, next time you come home, we should try to sing together. Although I suck now, I’m out of practice. But I will forever think of you when I hear this song, too. πŸ™‚
I spend a lot of time fantasizing. I just talked to Nick on the phone, and he suggests making a timeline, and then doing our best to stick to it. I’m glad I have some extra motivation. Every time I think that 6 years is a long time (which really, it isn’t.), I think about things like how badly I want Ollie to have the opportunity to go to college – the chance that I didn’t.
I’m listening to God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen performed by Mannheim Steamroller. Boy, does that bring back memories of band with Smith in Elk River. Shannon, I’m thinking of you. πŸ™‚
Eh, now I’ve moved on to Judy Garland’s “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas”. I love her voice, too. If you couldn’t tell, I turned on my Christmas music. Prior to this playlist, it was Beyonce, Britney, Kid Rock, and 50 Cent. Ha. But when other people are in the office, it just doesn’t seem appropriate to listen to “Just A Lil’ Bit” by 50 Cent…
I do love that song though. That’s a groovy beat.
Okay, I’m rambling. I have all these ideas all day long… “I should blog about this and that and this and that….” and then I forget it all. Pfft.

Thanksgiving day. Ollie fell asleep in Uncle Gus’ arms while mommy played pool on the new pool table at Grandma and Grandpa’s house.

I can’t help but wonder if that felt more comfortable than it looks.

Yesterday Ollie was determined not to take his nap. Sleep overcame him, however. Luckily, he was in good company with Raggedy Andy and his car keys. I had set him down for a moment so I could fold laundry on the bed, and ta-da! Notice his socks. I lost the other white one at some point, and there was a black one laying nearby. His foot was mighty cold, so I just threw it on him. However I forgot that he didn’t match, and we ended up in town for some groceries, where approximately 400 people pointed out the fact that his mother is retarded and his socks don’t match. Anyone who knows me, though, knows that 75% of the time my socks don’t match either. And the 25% is a large increase from a few years ago. All it took was one last minute showing of a house where the client walked up, looked me up and down, and said “your SOCKS don’t MATCH.” Now when I go into town, I wear matching socks, just in case. πŸ™‚
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