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I just got a call from Cole's teacher (remember, he's up at Science Camp with the other 5th graders) that he's terribly homesick and misses me. Ahhhh. Poor guy. I said he had to stay. Although I am slightly giddy to hear that he actually misses me. Ahhhh. Poor guy. He'll be home on Friday. He can make it tonight and tomorrow night.
I feel a little bad for saying that he has to stay but I really think it's a good thing for him. Strangely, I don't recall ever having intense homesickness while I was away at camp. Or anywhere else, for that matter. Cole's so like me that it surprises me a little bit. Sure, sure, I'm a total homebody, but I don't usually get homesick. Does that make sense?
Anyway. Tomorrow night's gathering at the bar with my old work BFF has been canceled due to lack of fundage. Boo. We'll try again in a week or two. After our tax refunds kick in. Which reminds me that I really need to send that paperwork back to my tax guy. The refund will never get here if I don't send it off.
Although the bar-fun has been canceled, I do have an exciting day planned of sitting at my sister's house while she gets her new flooring installed. Whatever shall I do with myself? Read, perhaps? Or write? I should probably write. It turns out those stories really don't write themselves. I mean, sometimes they do. In the sense that the plot flows from my head like water, but they don't actually WRITE-write themselves.
I'm sure everybody's clear on what I'm saying.
Okay. I totally have things to do. Not really. I'm still going to finish up here.
Later.
I feel a little bad for saying that he has to stay but I really think it's a good thing for him. Strangely, I don't recall ever having intense homesickness while I was away at camp. Or anywhere else, for that matter. Cole's so like me that it surprises me a little bit. Sure, sure, I'm a total homebody, but I don't usually get homesick. Does that make sense?
Anyway. Tomorrow night's gathering at the bar with my old work BFF has been canceled due to lack of fundage. Boo. We'll try again in a week or two. After our tax refunds kick in. Which reminds me that I really need to send that paperwork back to my tax guy. The refund will never get here if I don't send it off.
Although the bar-fun has been canceled, I do have an exciting day planned of sitting at my sister's house while she gets her new flooring installed. Whatever shall I do with myself? Read, perhaps? Or write? I should probably write. It turns out those stories really don't write themselves. I mean, sometimes they do. In the sense that the plot flows from my head like water, but they don't actually WRITE-write themselves.
I'm sure everybody's clear on what I'm saying.
Okay. I totally have things to do. Not really. I'm still going to finish up here.
Later.
