I've Slapped Myself on the Hand

Racked by guilt = working from home on a Sunday aftenoon to receive an email from a work colleague from another company who you barely know who tells you that she's impressed that you find time to write a blog and you're thinking 'how does this person even know that I write a blog?' and then you think 'gosh how long has it actually been since I wrote in my blog?' and then you look it up and find it's been 3+ weeks!

BREATHE.

All while your child is also writing what appears to be something approximately the length of a "War and Peace" and because she can't spell you end up reciting every single letter of every single word in response to her "How to spell dragon?", followed by "How to spell clown?", followed by "How to spell wing?" ad nauseum, ad nauseum, ad nauseum....

BREATHE.

And it's been like that for the last three weeks, or at least it feels like it. Abominably, overwhelmingly crazy. Between the work weeks that have crept up from 40-45 hours back into the 45-50 hour range, and you can't slack off (not that you ever did) because layoffs are coming, to the endless parade of birthday parties (see blog entry from almost exactly one year ago), from selling a house to buying a house, from the maddening array of paperwork requiring initials and signatures for aforementioned house selling/buying to gathering other, yet similar paperwork for 2008 taxes, from having Pete's car repaired to having my car repaired, from swimming lessons to summer camp registration, from having to cook multiple meals in one night to try to salvage the food from the garage freezer that unfroze when the housing inspector forgot to flip the circuit breaker back on to, oh, I don't know. Oh, wait a minute, yes I do. Back to work. So now, in addition to doing real work, we're supposed to fully immersed in our social media tools, and Twittering, and Digging, and Yammering (the AMD company version of Twitter), and don't forget about Facebook and Mogulus. So when the heck are we supposed to be blogging?

BREATHE.

So THAT'S why I haven't written a blog entry in three weeks. Sue me.

Yet with all the madness, I think of the wide-eyed, grinning face on Lily when we suprised her the other night and took her to see Elmo's Green Thumb live show, and the unexpected pleasure from going to the grocery store this morning and finding the Oscar Mayer wienermobile parked out front, and the enjoyable Valentine's evening out listening to jazz pianist Ramsey Lewis with P. Daddy, and the upcoming gal pal trip with old college friends in Las Vegas, and how P. Daddy braved the "despicable" (say it in a Daffy Duck voice) crowds to satisfy his pregnant wife's desire for a mighty fine vanilla milkshake from Mighty Fine Burgers, and I can't help but think of one of the songs on a CD belonging to Lily.

The tune itself has to to be one of the most annoying melodies known to man, sung by a chorus of extremely irritating voices. But oh....the sentiment. With that they've hit the nail on the head. The song title: "I'm Happy in My Heart."

Funny, I think I can breathe again now.