Wait...what day is it?

Something I still can't figure out is this: I work from home, yet somehow my weekends still manage to be a chaotic jumble of "This Has To Be Done In These Two Days" chores. How is that possible when I have all week to clean the house and plow my way through loads of laundry? Or is because while I do those things all week, neither rests on the weekends. Sooooo...add those to my usual "To Do" list for the weekends and I get instant Stress and Mayhem. Sigh. Or Alien conspiracy. I could go either way.

So, why a slightly more frazzling weekend than usual?

I may have mentioned somewhere that our ancient feline family member is also diabetic? Sounds like fun, huh? Two insulin shots a day and ungodly expensive prescription cat food. Friday afternoon Sebastian T. Cat just wasn't right. I mean even more Not Right than usual. Turns out he has a cold. He wasn't in the least bit interested in eating which meant we stopped giving him his insulin shots. And yesterday I was feeding him chicken broth through a syringe. Oh, he very quickly decided that he was OK to eat on his own, out of his own dish, thankyouverymuch. He's doing better today--actually wandering around moaning and groaning instead of laying on the bed moaning and groaning. I'm really hoping that when his vet calls me back she won't insist on taking a look at him--that's just a pain in the booty, not to mention the wallet! I gotta tell you--there is nothing more pitiful than an ancient, insulin dependent, diabetic cat with a cold. Sorta makes the Man Flu look like nothing more trifling than an occasional sneeze.

Saturday afternoon rolled around and I was already exhausted from being up at 6 am to go wait in line--in the cold and wet--and sign Jacob up for one of the county's two week long day (half day) camps this summer. It really wasn't all that bad. I was layered up, had my chair and book, had a friend to chat with, had my coffee and around 7:30 someone did a breakfast run to McDonald's. The preschool camps fill up really fast and I think I got one of the last spots for the one we wanted--but he did get in, so...Yea. (When I walked out of the building at 10, there were still people lining up outside!)

However, my plan for a relaxed evening was foiled by Kyleigh face planting on the step. Blood everywhere, a chipped front tooth, crying baby, hysterical mommy and a curious big brother wanting to see the blood. She managed to knocked the tooth a little loose, which resulted in a night long continuous cycle of her putting stuff in her mouth, having it hit that tooth, causing pain and the screaming starting all over again. Stop putting stuff in your mouth! Geez, you'd think a 17-month-old could figure out the whole Cause and Effect thing by now. It would have been rather comical if she wasn't so miserable! This morning? Like nothing ever happened.

Finally--why do people only make bomb threats in the wee hours of the morning? Why not at 9am when the bomb squad people are already out and working? And why don't people stash their guns in the woods during regular working hours? My poor husband and his furry partner have been called out at least a half a dozen times in the past two weeks--and most of those calls have been in the middle of the night. Hey, Bad Guys, you listening? Stop messing around with my sleep! I'm the Non-Gun Totin' Pacifist in the family but I will get violent if you keep making that phone ring at 3am.

Now where did I leave my coffee...