Friday, September 15, 2006

When I'm 84

The Divine Mrs. M's mother is in the hospital so last night she drove up to help out and will be gone all weekend. That means I had to drop off the kids at school, make sure they got breakfast, and then pick up them up with two other girls - one from the old school - and one frim this school and deliver them to their respective grandparents homes before I could head home with my two girls. I had to leave the office at 2 instead of my at the earliest departure time of 5:30.

I came away from the experience depressed.

In all honesty, they were a bit annoying - the four of them talking a mile a minute, squeeling, whining, and complaining - gets a bit grating after 20 minutes. However, walking into school, it's nice to see what the kids see and to be seen. It was nice to see them interact with friends and how they appear after school (manic and ready for some vegitative TV time), and it was nice to just talk with them in a relaxed way - not right after work when I'm tired and grumpy and in the mood for quiet - but that's not gonna happen.

The reason I got depressed is I thought about what I'm missing. the Divine Mrs. M. justifiably talks about the problems of having to stay at home. I'll leave it to her to describe because I'm probably walking on egg shells, and I can see them. It would drive me batty and insane and I wouldn't be good at it and the girls psyche would be warped.

However, I am still missing something. When I'm 84 and Alzheimer's sets in, what am I going to remember? They say alot of people with the big A can remember the their 30's but not their 60s and 70s. What am I going to remember? Dagny's goofy smile? Harper's belly laugh? Their giggling with friends after school? Or this ViewSonic monitor I've sat in front of for 10 hours a day for the last 7 years. Or this Panasonic phone whose ring is like a dagger? Or the ACCO 20 stapler that's just plain ugly?

What am I doing with my life?

Update: Just like me, eh? Out of work early on a nice sunny day spending time with my daughters and I dive headfirst into the shallow black waters of depression. I knocked my noggin on the bottom and floated up ass up like William Holden.

Update 2: If you haven't seen Sunset Blvd, you really must. And pick up Gilda while you're at it. My God, they are the best art this country has ever produced.

Stay You.
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