I wrote this last night.
Why is it that I can spend 9 or 10 hours a week day, at my desk at work, with my lap top and my tea cup warming plate and be perfectly competent. Customers , co workers, and even managers and administrators come to me for advice. I function very highly and even dare to complain that it bores me.
But the minute I set foot on my own property, at home, I become a bumbling idiot who leaves my keys in the door, can't remember to turn off the gas stove until 3 hours after I'm done cooking and can't find a pen, ever.
I'm particularly enjoying a good self-loathing incident tonight because apparently Boy Scouts of America seems to think it perfectly reasonable for an ordinary adult and a 7 year old boy to turn a rectangual hunk of wood the size of a woman's shoe in to a race car by this week end.
First my equally passive agressive husband and I played a game of "chicken" in which we each pretended that hunk of wood wasn't there, for the last several weeks. Then today I figured out I lost the match and would have to figure it out myself.
The Boy Scout store sold me a $17 set of tools including a saw that broke its teeth off in the wood almost right away. And I hardly even had $17 spare bucks, it was a real decision to even get that.
So I'm sitting at my dinner table with a regular saw , the kind you cut down tree branches with, trying to at least sculpt this thing in to a shape I can start filing down. I hope the file it came with works better than their stupid useless saw. It's taken me about 3 hours off and on just to get it to be kind of rough-edged oval shaped.
Everyone keeps saying my son is supposed to be actively involved in even this part of the process, but what good would it do him to sit and stare at me for hours while I quite possibly will saw my own thumb off right in front of him. That is all. Except this whole week ahead is not looking good to me.
I have set up my lap top on the table next to me so I can listen to my new favorite Evig Poesi from Norway, I wonder what they are saying ?
Why is it that I can spend 9 or 10 hours a week day, at my desk at work, with my lap top and my tea cup warming plate and be perfectly competent. Customers , co workers, and even managers and administrators come to me for advice. I function very highly and even dare to complain that it bores me.
But the minute I set foot on my own property, at home, I become a bumbling idiot who leaves my keys in the door, can't remember to turn off the gas stove until 3 hours after I'm done cooking and can't find a pen, ever.
I'm particularly enjoying a good self-loathing incident tonight because apparently Boy Scouts of America seems to think it perfectly reasonable for an ordinary adult and a 7 year old boy to turn a rectangual hunk of wood the size of a woman's shoe in to a race car by this week end.
First my equally passive agressive husband and I played a game of "chicken" in which we each pretended that hunk of wood wasn't there, for the last several weeks. Then today I figured out I lost the match and would have to figure it out myself.
The Boy Scout store sold me a $17 set of tools including a saw that broke its teeth off in the wood almost right away. And I hardly even had $17 spare bucks, it was a real decision to even get that.
So I'm sitting at my dinner table with a regular saw , the kind you cut down tree branches with, trying to at least sculpt this thing in to a shape I can start filing down. I hope the file it came with works better than their stupid useless saw. It's taken me about 3 hours off and on just to get it to be kind of rough-edged oval shaped.
Everyone keeps saying my son is supposed to be actively involved in even this part of the process, but what good would it do him to sit and stare at me for hours while I quite possibly will saw my own thumb off right in front of him. That is all. Except this whole week ahead is not looking good to me.
I have set up my lap top on the table next to me so I can listen to my new favorite Evig Poesi from Norway, I wonder what they are saying ?
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