Dear Monday, October 12, 2009:
Oh, will you never be over? In 3 and one half hours it will be with great pleasure that I bid you farewell.
You rained torrents of rain upon us. Again. So much so that I spent much of the morning pacing the floor in front of the window, glancing out with much angst as I watched the water level in the backyard rise.
There are ants everywhere in my house. Hordes of them. Everywhere I look, there are ants.
You made the dishes in the kitchen sink go forth and multiply. I think that was you. At any rate, I will blame you because I can't see how just the five of us could possibly have generated that many dishes.
Ditto on the laundry.
Perhaps my children should sign their names on this letter because they were all in a funk too. Of course I blame you.
You caused my bread to flop for the first time ever. And this is the bread I made especially so I can make a picnic lunch for tomorrow. Now my picnic lunch will be comprised of sandwiches on flopped bread. Thank you for that.
As with all of your predecessors and as I suspect will hold true with all of your successors, you have not afforded me enough hours. I have planning to do for a writing class, stuff to do for co-op, preparations to be made to teach my children. I need more hours.
Where am I supposed to sleep tonight with the bed piled high with laundry?
I think today I have gained back all six pounds I lost last week while sick.
When at last I got a few precious moments to take a shower tonight, you forgot to remind me to lock the door. Why can't I at least be alone in the bathroom?
My shower was interrupted by one of 4 little people yelling through the crack, "Mommy, someone peed on my bed." Thankfully, it seems it was the pee of a little boy who did not want to tell me what happened. I am only thankful for this because if it had been feline pee, the cat would have been gone, which would have broken the heart of my biggest girl who is just a little bit obsessed with the cat.
Did I mention I have a laundry problem?
Thankfully, once you are gone, there will never be another like you.