Jetlagged. You’re wondering how I could be jetlagged, right? You’re thinking, “she’s been driving a cute little blue honda civic around for the last two weeks. It stays on the ground and she hasn’t even jumped one lousy time zone.” And you’re absolutely right. But the last time I felt as tired and unmotivated as I do today was when I had a stupid little 24-hour flu-like virus back in March, just after I got back from California. Except that was a nice, comfortable kind of tired feeling and I just lay down and tinkered with my homework for the afternoon. Today I just feel dragged out. Probably has something to do with the heat. I am not acclimated to 80 degrees yet this year. Lake Superior, where are you when I need you?

Anyway, I was sitting in my favorite blahgging spot by the front window, when a young woman with a bag and some pamphlet-y looking stuff in her hand started up my driveway. Oh no, a solicitor. What could she want? I do not need that old tree cut down and I don’t want replacement windows or a bathtub liner. I don’t have time to read the magazines I already subscribe to and I do not want to sponsor some juvenile delinquent in a stupid contest or buy candy bars to keep a kid from turning into a drug dealer. Stay off drugs and get a real job.

She asked me if I was the mom of the house. Hmmm. How do I answer that? I mean, I *am* the mom of the house, except that there aren’t usually any kids living here. I was apprehensive but tentatively told her, “yes.” She started to launch into a spiel about some “knowledge” program, today’s version of the Encyclopedia Brittanica, I guess. I was actually a little flattered that she seemed to think I might have young children but I had to say, “My kids are in their twenties.” I figured she’d just go on and try to sell it to me for my non-existent grandchildren or guinea pig or whatever. To my amazement, she said — in a *friendly* voice, “I guess I’m at the wrong house,” and then proceeded to ask me if there were any kids next door because if there weren’t, she wouldn’t bother with that house.

Other than that, I accomplished the bare minimum of what was on my list today. I tried to go to the post office this afternoon but I couldn’t get anybody to let me switch lanes so I decided to bag it and go early in the morning tomorrow. Yes, it was that bad. And I don’t mean the traffic, which was actually pretty typical. I just didn’t have the psychic energy to deal with it. Go home and park your car, Volcano Mama, before you hurt someone or get hurt. But I better get myself moving because Sandy has got me going to some networking type event tonight. Onward and upward.

4 Responses to “Blaaaaaahhhhhh[g]”

  1. Sam Says:

    I do think your malaise is tied to the many things you’ve been doing. BTW, from yesterday, roto means broken in Spanish. Hmmm. Probably relates to the malaise.

  2. Marquis Says:

    Viagra may relieve jet lag.

    Hamsters that got the drug recovered from a sleep-cycle shift 20 to 50 percent faster than hamsters that didn’t. Researchers’ conclusion: Viagra might help humans deal with jet lag and “circadian disorders that involve poor synchronization with the environment, including delayed sleep-phase syndrome and adaptation to changing light schedules.”

    Caveats: 1) The drug helped only in simulations of eastbound flights. 2) Researchers had to cut the original high dose because the hamsters were suffering “penile erections.” Human Nature’s takeaway: Another reason to wear loose-fitting pants on the plane.

    Anne you’re no Hamster, but you have acted a little squirrelly at times.

  3. mouse Says:

    “volcano mama” is a very appropriate name. volcanoes are the mamas of the continents!!

  4. kayak woman Says:

    Volcano Mama and The Red Hot Lava Girls. 🙂 It was a game that involved “sliding” down from the top of the back of the couch to the floor. Some vMoms would’ve boiled their kids in oil for playing that game but I guess *your* mama was acting a little squirrely that day! 😉 😉