Nothing.
Except unload the dish washer. Once.
I don't know if it's the lack of noise in the house or just that I don't have any witnesses to the slothdom I'm living, but these last two days have been near bliss for an inherently lazy person like me.
Granted, I did have the most horrible of nuit blanche last night courtesy of Rosebud who decided that eating every two hours is a wonderful thing. Hence why today, I'm feeling like I'm back on Love Boat. (Ted's drinks are still crap, by the way.) Typhon decided to help out a bit and ran up to the boulangerie for me between his Gregorian chanting lessons.
What a good dog.
The only real contact I've had with the outside world was a good long conversation with my friend from kindergarten, The A, who lives in London.
The parallels in our lives are beoynd anything that we could have imagined back when we were sporting pig tails in Miss Apple's class in Maryland. The ultimate irony being that she too has an English husband and therefore is the best person to commiserate when I want to bitch about Hubster. Yesterday, for example, we were trying to understand just what exactly it means when our spouses respond to any of our long involved questions with the word, "quite." Perhaps this is really why my head is spinning today.
This morning I did manage to chat with a few moms at school in a blundering version of Franglais before stumbling back home and into bed. Snuggling with Rosebud and walking through the hallways of my mind has eased the rocking ship just a wee bit.
There's a parent's meeting at school tonight so I suppose I should go shower and put on some clean clothes before heading up to get the tribe. Wonder if the kids will recognize me...
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