So, this morning I woke up way too early, did all the normal morning things, and then rushed Mia to get dressed and get her hair done so that we could go....nowhere. After I had us all ready for the day I got a text that there was no work for me to pick up this morning. I then realized there was not a real need to go to the grocery store today, and I don't have to drive the preschool car pool for another two hours. Hmmm. Free time kind of baffles me. I suppose it is now time to start cleaning my house, but sitting here checking facebook and reading all the news headlines is more fun, and no one will ever know that I was lazy on this frigid Monday morning...except you. But you won't tell, because then I will have to spill the dirt on you...you know what I'm talking about, don't make me say it.
Facebook is an odd phenomenon. I have been a proud member for a week now and I still fail to see the point. I have reconnected with a bunch of people from my past, whom I love, but I have nothing to discuss with them on a regular basis. And the ones I do have stuff to talk about with I could just call, because they're the people I talk all the time anyway, like my husband, or my next door neighbor. Weird. Maybe I'm not doing it right. Perhaps if I stopped to ask my ex-boyfriend's roommate from college why he ended up working in the coroner's office a whole new perspective on life would open to me. Or maybe the girl I sat next to in sixth grade has some vital information to share with me that would make my life more meaningful. Or, maybe I am doing it right and it is just a way for bored housewives to avoid their chores when they are feeling lazy.
The thing I have noticed is that people who communicate on the web have a very unrealistic sense of anonymity. They say and do things that a normal person wouldn't do in public, because hey, who will know right? I, on the other hand of paranoia, am all too aware of who may be reading this. I have refrained from sharing my latest waxing escapades or irritations with my neighbors (no, not you Bonnie, or Ashley, or Joy (see what I mean? You never know who you might be typing to.)), because my dad or home teachers could happen upon this little online journal.
P.S., I'm sorry entries have been a little sparse of late. It's the holidays, and I am doing my best to not have my annual nervous breakdown.