My kids are at their dads' house during the weekends. On Mondays, after dropping off the girls at school, my ex-husband brings their stuff to my house.
I am a night owl. Night owls like the night. Monday mornings are difficult for night owls. Therefore, greeting my ex-husband on Monday mornings is difficult for me.
10 Point Excerpt of My Week's First Hour:
8:15 a.m.: Wake startled wondering why I didn’t choose to vacuum before going to bed at 3:30 am
8:20 a.m.: Go downstairs to the basement, retrieve dogs from their kennel, and let them outside.
8:22 a.m.: Light incense so that my ex-husband doesn’t realize I allow his kids to live in a house that smells like Chihuahuas.
8:25 a.m.: Girls’ dad pulls into my driveway, I frantically plug in the mini-shop-vac, turn it on, and begin to guide the machine in sucking up dog hair.
8:26 a.m.: He knocks at door, I can’t hear him due to the vacuuming.
8:27 a.m.: He knocks at window, it startles me, I jump and throw the hose of the vacuum down to the floor.
8:27:30 a.m.: I go to the door, open it, and he says, “Boy, you’re up early getting things done!” He means this sincerely. He really thinks I’ve been up cleaning. He begins to tell me about the weekend and updates me on the schedule. I nod, smile, and pretend like I understand what he's talking about. I try not to think about the pile of dog hair in which I'm standing, or the fact I that I probably smell because I've had the same clothes on since Saturday morning.
8:35 a.m.: After dragging suitcases, bags, a clarinet, and softball equipment back to the girls' rooms, I go to the bathroom and relieve myself after holding it since 8:15 am.
8:37 am: I go to the refrigerator, grab a Monster Absolutely Zero, and head out back to sit with the dogs.
9:00 a.m.: I come inside, locate laptop, take it to the kitchen table and begin writing Monday Listicles. (Do you really think I do this ahead of time?)
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