I’m in the middle of three days of non-stop obligations, frantically shuttling kids to play practice, soccer practice and co-op. Trying to find Victorian era, age-appropriate costumes for cheap. Soccer cleats too small, game tomorrow. Three parties to attend tomorrow, after soccer. One car down, with $2,000 in repairs looming in my near future.

Most crushing is having to make a decision about next year. Do we register for fall semester at co-op? I have pretty much resolved this issue (yes) but still wonder how I came to be the person in charge of all this madness. Do we really want me to be making these decisions? I hardly feel capable. I want to know how others have convinced themselves that they are indeed grown-ups.

First thing this morning, the universe sent me a message. The universe is communicating via email now, and do you know what it told me? That I am old. Groupon’s offer: $80 worth of spa services for half price. The Living Social deal: spider vein removal (2!) for %50 off. Even though I normally don’t even brush my hair, I considered these deals. I should do that, I thought. I could get a facial, or a peel, something to make me feel younger. Then it hit me; the universe is just fucking with me. Not fair, big U.

Advertisements