To-Do List Runneth Over

As the end of the semester is nigh, I’m already thinking of all the things that have been on my household To-Do List that have gone neglected because the only tasks I can do when the semester is in full swing are these:

1. Wake up, take shower, dress, eat.

2. Wake up child, change pull-ups, dress, give breakfast.

3.  Go to preschool then to work.

4. Work.

5. Go home, wash dishes, wash clothes, make dinner, scarf some food down.

6. Pick up child from preschool, give child dinner, tend to child till bedtime.

7. Bathe child when it’s Bathing Day, get him into PJs, brush his teeth, look at books, put him to bed.

8. Check email, Facebook, blog, news.

9. Go to bed.

10. Rinse, lather, repeat.

But this afternoon after work, I looked at the backyard and realized that “Mow lawn” was something that couldn’t wait until the semester was over — on pain of municipal code violation. So I ate out of the fridge, left the dry clothes sitting in the dryer, changed into workout clothing, and MOWED.

Did you know that autumn leaves in Texas don’t really decompose that much?  So, in addition to grass, weeds, sticks, acorns, and fire ant mounds, I mowed over the previous fall’s leaves — yum, MULCH.

I even had enough time to do a little bit of shrubbery pruning and sweeping the driveway and sidewalk before hitting  the shower and then getting the little guy from preschool.

Okay — my online class’s essays haven’t been graded yet, there’s clutter in nooks and crannies all throughout the house, the berber carpet is starting to get mighty LUMPY again, the laundry still needs to be folded, and the dust bunnies have morphed into ALLERGEN CLOUDS FROM HELL — but my front and back yards look nice now.

That’s something, ain’t it?

G’night, folks.


About lizardqueen

If single-mothering were a paid job, I'd be rich. However, it doesn't, so I write (which doesn't pay the bills) and teach (which does). I'm overly-educated in the liberal arts, but that doesn't hinder my ability to be pragmatic and realistic. YAY.
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