Life runs past at breakneck speed. I’m finding that I’m not in the greatest shape to try to catch up to it.

The Kid is now 11 (when the hell did THIS happen?!) and mom is ornerier than ever. My abode is a shambles, owing to mom’s eccentric habits and my lack of bedroom furniture. This past Saturday, I made a stab at cleaning up the apartment. We had a fleafestation that required immediate attention so I earmarked the afternoon for major disinfecting and organizing. I got the carpets done, dusted, and managed to scour every inch of the Kid’s bathroom…then collapsed on the sofa muttering something about Merry Maids and a dry vodka martini. Over two hours of housework. I barely made a dent. I took a nap.

I don’t know when I started to slow down, all I know is I’m definitely not in the fast lane any longer. I don’t like it. Tracy and I are back in the gym again (one of these attempts will stick, dammit), but I know there’s more to it than this. I haven’t quite figured out what, but when I do I’m gonna package it with a fancy label and freeze it for my future.

In the meantime, I’m calling Merry Maids.