I Don't Care What RIM Says

I don't care what RIM says, or how long her "pro" list is, being "back to school" is hard. 

This week, in addition to rising early (which is bad enough, in my opinion), and reembracing responsibility in the forms of spelling tests and homework, the fragmenting has also started.

Monday night, David arrived home only to tell me he had to back at the hospital in 45 minutes.  We wolfed down our dinner and he headed back to work while I handled all the end-of-day activities alone.

Tuesday night, I had a body image presentation and so I left dinner in the crockpot and David and I quick-kissed through our car windows in the driveway as I was headed out and he was headed in.

Wednesday night, David had a meeting and was at the hospital until almost 8, Caleb had scouts and I had to be at Young Women's one last time.  I left dinner sitting on the stove for whoever had time to eat.

Last night, we had a family birthday party, but David didn't get home (after picking up Caleb from swim team) until nearly time to go, so we bolted down some BLT's and hurried over to my parents' house.

We didn't have one slow, chatty dinner around our table the entire week.

I woke this morning with two kinds of heartburn.  I think I'm just really bad at being a modern woman.  I feel all stretched out and panicky, too taut already at day five.  My summer reservoir is disappearing at a shocking rate.

I think RIM might be the crazy one.