Now what?

Today is a first in a very long time. For almost seven years I've either been at my job, or I've had at least one child underfoot. Today I walked the children to school. Today I did not go to work. Today I walked around the park and wondered what I would do until it was time to retrieve my offspring at three o'clock or thereabouts. The day stretched before me with great potential and loss. I'm not too sad that my kids have grown up to this point. I realize a big job in being a parent is getting good in the exercises of letting go. I get that, painful though as it is at times.

The muscles I will need to exercise today and in future days are those which utilize this time wisely in the many tasks that vie for my attention. Shall I describe the state of my house? The stack of papers and mail here...and here...and here. The clutter by the front door and at the foot of the stairs and at the top of the stairs and...well, maybe you get the point. The house needs cleaning. But, gee, what fun is that? Do I really want to spend my first free day in six years doing something as menial as HOUSEWORK??

Of course not. I have books to write! Books to publicize! Even books to READ! Yes. I have a huge stack of books in my TBR pile. And if I'm going to whittle down piles of stuff, wouldn't it be so much better to read through the pile of books rather than sort through a pile of mail? Not to get off on a tangent here, but honestly my health insurance company would save a bunch of money if they would not mail me individual statements on every single little something telling me how much they are NOT going to pay. And don't even get me started on the doctor and hospital offices. Back in February I had a stress test. Of that whole episode, there were two stressful parts.
  1. When this woman comes at me with a metal syringe which she is holding with huge rubber gloves and informs me that radioactive crap she won't touch with her hands is going into my body.
  2. When I get the statement from the hospital saying the stress test cost like a billion thousand dollars (only slight exaggeration here) and then a nice little sentence near the bottom: "This is not a bill."
Then why send it to me!!!??? Geez, Louise!! If I hadn't had a heart attack already, seeing how much a freakin' procedure is would be enough to give me one! Plus knowing my insurance is crappy (technical term meaning "Get ready, Elizabeth! I'm coming to join ya, honey" because I am going to wrap my first born child up and present him to the hospital for the bill that I KNOW is coming. Or I guess I could just cut off two of my limbs because this is costing an arm and a leg. Limbs would be hard to mail in with the bill. Do you think they accept those kinds of payments in the emergency room or the business office?

Okay, so I see the first hour or so has been spent RANTING. Not a bad way to begin my job and childfree day. Maybe I will break things down an hour at at time. My only regret is that the theater is NOT showing matinees early enough in the day for me to go see a movie before I have to pick up the kids!!