Monday. Crap.
2004-10-18, 11:01 p.m.

*grumble*

Yep, it�s been a Monday. Although bits of it were less Monday-ish than others.

For some reason this weekend it seemed that no matter the quantity of sleep, I have still felt oddly unenergetic. I suspect that has to do with the bits of migraine that keep popping up, courtesy of the screwy weather. Just decide on clouds, rain, or sun, warm or cool, and STAY THAT WAY DAMMIT.

I dressed for the cloudy morning chill and set about the day�s agenda, which included a conference with Son�s teachers. Thank goodness these are ladies with both stamina and stalwart sense of humor, which are needed in mass quantities when dealing with Son. He�s been trying to bamboozle his math teacher into believing that he doesn�t know the multiplication tables, so that he can skip taking the speed tests for now. Ain�t gonna happen. She�s wise to him now, so he should begin producing some relevant results tomorrow.

The rest of the morning and early afternoon were totally enjoyable, spent visiting and lunching with the Gurus. I am forever indebted to them as well, because they brought over a treadmill! Mrs. Guru cannot use it because it aggravates her tendonitis in her foot. I will keep an eye out for faboo deals on an elliptical machine which she wants, and hopefully shed serious poundage while plodding along on this new toy. No excuses now.

Soon it was time to pick up Son early from school, so we could zip over to Daughter�s school for the Science Club field trip. I had put on a sweatshirt, as the morning was freezing. Our trip to the farm on Friday was an arctic thrill. So what did predict? I would dress for the cold and the weather would take a tropical turn? I was right. By the time Son and I emerged, it was a gusty sunny 75 degrees. We had just enough time to pop home so I could change into a t-shirt.

At school, great news: too many parent chaperones, so some of us could play hooky this time. Daughter was salivating to ride with one of her friends, and the friend�s mom agreed to chaperone her. Son didn�t want to go. Instead we went to the bank so Son could cash his check for Grandma Loot, to the used video game store where the employees gave him a killer deal on a game (knocked $10 off just for being a lil guy, from $19 to $9), and then to T@rget where I finally found black cat ears and a tail for Daughter�s Hallowe'en costume. Sometime during all this is when the nausea started to swirl and my eyes didn�t want to focus quite properly and my right side didn�t want to cooperate with the left. Stupid migraine.

Sun. Clouds. Sun. Clouds. Clouds. Rain. Clouds. Rain. More rain. Still more rain. Cold. Warm. Still. Breezy. Still. Gale-force winds. Still. Rain. Wind. Rain. Cold. Warm. Cold. PICK ONE. JUST PICK ONE AND LEAVE IT FOR AWHILE. Today�s weather pattern has used my sinuses for a yo-yo and taken my entire cranium in tow, a most unenjoyable ride. This will probably go on for several days. Joy. It�s not getting better as the night wears on; standing up nearly brings about shutting down, so there goes any evening productivity. Time to be a slug. Monday night is supposed to be an enjoyable @ss-planting recliner party of seemingly nonstop episodes of Stargate SG-1. Not so tonight, there�s something else on instead. So, I am irked at the absence of hunk-o-licious galaxy hoppers�er, a really good intellectually stimulating show. Yeah. Intellectual stimulation, soaring feats of imagination. Yeah.

To top off the evening, Daughter just had to apply sandpaper to my last raw migraineous nerve. She left a toy in jeans destined for the washer. I saved the toy from an imminent immersive death, took it to her room, and dropped it while trying to put it down. Daughter went postal because Mom is breaking her stuff. Mom commenced The Mighty Verbal Smackdown. Hubby can be suitably calm at times, able to explain the reasoning behind my Direct Edicts Which Must Be Unquestioningly Obeyed, and he was able to step in and snake charm Daughter into at least mediocre compliance (silence, shower, and sleep). I love her dearly, but right now LORD I�m glad she�s in bed.

Crap. My hands are growing numb. I�m queasy. Time to stop the whining and the long entry and sign off. Hope all you peeps in the Land of Diary have a good Tuesday.

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