Mark, the physiotherapist, will be here any minute. The house is as clean as it can be, considering there are people still living here. And I’m still plotting ways to get the girls to vamoose once he arrives. I’m hoping that his weirdo persona will be enough to send them outside.

I don’t feel like writing about my parents. And yet, they’re on my mind. Constantly. Even when something else is on my mind, they’re on my mind. But I don’t feel like re-telling the story of the past few days. Not sure why, exactly. Maybe because I’m not through dissecting it.

And I’m tired. From not having a single decent night’s sleep since, um, I can’t remember. I honestly can’t remember the last time I slept well or for long enough. And I’ve been saying, “I hope to catch a nap today” every day this week and it’s yet to happen.

Don will be here tomorrow. Actually less than twenty four hours from now. Wow. When I put it that way…

I still have so much to do. Give the house one final clean, even though it really doesn’t matter because we will be spending tomorrow night alone in a hotel room before coming to chill out with the kids for the weekend and by the time we arrive on Saturday, chances are the house will be gross all over again anyway. But still. I have to do it or I won’t sleep. Course I’m already not sleeping so I guess I could say, “fuck it” to the house and not worry about missing any sleep because I’ll miss sleep no matter what state the house is in and oh god….

Have I mentioned that I’m tired?

And while I’m not talking about my parents, I guess I should mention that I’m not going to the Pow Wow this year. Which sucks. A lot. And I have my two loving till you want to lock yourself away in the rubber room parents to thank for that. I was supposed to take Don. It’s been kinda built up over the months and now we’re not going. It’s just not worth it, it’s really not. And I didn’t want to spend an afternoon with his Mom, feeling awkward and uncomfortable while I was visiting him because it felt like a waste since we don’t exactly see each other every day, or every weekend for that matter and so how could I expect him to do that this weekend? Never mind the fact that at this point, I have zero desire whatsoever to see either my Mom or my Dad and have no idea how to proceed within this so my brain has just decided that we’ll stop thinking about it even though that doesn’t really work and have I mentioned that I’m tired and not talking about my parents?

Right. So. Stuff to do before the boy arrives tomorrow at 1:35 pm. Anybody out there in mybloggersville remember the first time I picked that boy up from the airport? I do. And it seems like such a long time ago. I can remember sitting in this exact spot, blogging before leaving for the airport about the Janet Land adventure and I remember scanning the sky and the yard to check to see what the weather was like and had it changed or had it stayed the same and I was nervous. Really, really nervous. He probably was, too… I just didn’t realize it at the time.

But I’m supposed to be talking about the things I have left to do! Not taking a trip down memory fucking lane! But I’m tired (I probably should have mentioned that).

OKAY…so I have a lot left to do. Besides clean the house like a crazy woman (I wonder if I took a B vitamin if that would make me less tired? I usually wait for after dinner because then I have a lot of energy during the evening and into the nighttime but maybe today I should take it early. It seems really, really early because this day is going by so quickly. What I’d really like is a coffee. A big ol’ mug of steaming coffee, fresh from the pot. I guess I could put a pot on but then I’ll probably drink the whole damn thing because once I start, I can’t stop and I have noone to share it with. Except that I might be able to offer Mark a mug of it. Why do I think he wouldn’t take it? Just a hunch. Are we still in the bracket? Maybe I should add the end of one just to be safe…).

Where was I?

I think I was about to tell you about my headache. I can’t seem to get rid of it. It’s one of those dull throbbing headaches that drive you insane before the pain intensifies. I took some Ibuprophen earlier but here’s the thing:

I usually buy and take Motrin. Which is Ibuprophen, I know. But I swear it works better than Advil or off brand Ibuprophen (am I spelling that wrong? Or is my Canadian spell check fucked up?) and I prefer it over any other kind of pain killer. Except, the last time I ran out, I went to the drugstore and the store brand of Ibuprophen was on sale for like five bucks and the Motrin was over ten and I’m poor and cheap but mostly just poor so I bought the store brand stuff instead of my regular Motrin. I cheaped out. And now I’m paying the price. A headache that won’t go away and not a single of my beloved white little pills to be found. Not even in the bottom of my purse. Yes, I checked. A few times, actually. And so I need some Motrin. I atone! I was wrong! Store brands suck! And my question to all of you is this:

Do I have to finish the store brand Ibuprophen before I can buy some Motrin?

Now that I think about it, I probably should have just filled out that “How well do you know your man?” thingie that I saw on AJ’s blog and Gee’s blog.

Ack. Shoulda. Woulda. Coulda.

Have I mentioned that I’m a little tired?