Monday is not my best day of the week. I am usually frazzled, wrinkled, and stressed.
The girls were fed and dressed by 7:30.
We left for daycare and work by 8.
In a clean car.
I am wearing “new” white pants from Banana Republic (hand-me-downs from my mom, so technically they are new to me)…and they are still white.
Miss C was excited beyond belief because she and one of her best friends at daycare are wearing the same skirt today.
I thought I’d made a mistake in a document I’d sent to a client for work, but it turns out I didn’t.
Two out of three beds in our house are made.
I am caught up on laundry.
I listed a few things on eBay last night and people are already stalking them.
I have a vague idea of what I am making for dinner.
I heard some vintage Dwight on the radio on the way home (now you know I have an inner honky tonk girl just dyin’ to get out.)
And yes it’s a fine day, despite the fact that when I got home from taking the hubby a turkey sandwich and started to make one for myself I couldn’t find the package of sliced deli turkey anywhere. I called the hubby to make sure I hadn’t put the package of meat in with his lunch and then he asked, “Have you checked the yard?”
I went outside and sure enough there was the tell tale mangled plastic package on the ground. Of course I’m the idiot who left it out on the counter and didn’t shut the dogs out.
Oh no, Jack’s not feeling guilty.