Rats, foiled again

It never fails, ever. The more you absolutely need piece of mind, there is something to throw a monkey wrench into the plan. Or perhaps I should thank my child for getting sick after my examinations and final administration (we'll ignore the little detail of the parking ticket I received during the exam). It could have been worse. Heck, come to think of it, with the $5 co-pay for the strep culture/ visit I felled two birds with only one stone, saving myself the $15 fee for filling out a "report of health examination for entry into school" by asking the kindly doctor to fill it out during a visit, as opposed to not during one. This is a five line form, I might add.

This is what is wrong with the system. The doctors are charging $15 for a form that is pro forma... everyone must have one to get into school. The schools are requiring a specific document that demonstrates children's healthful readiness for school (so far, I am not particularly opposed, yes, perhaps this impinges on my right to privacy, but I'll enter into this particular social contract so that my kid might be equally protected from rampant infection) one and a half years after she has entered into said school. You see my point.

Ultimate results:
Paper: 0
Kid: negative strep
Clean kitchen: priceless?

So, as I am wont to do, in procrastinational fits, I did nothing more than mull over the same ideas in my mushy grey matter, while scrubbing each and every counter surface in my kitchen, upheaving appliances, rearranging them, and emptying all pantries of food, save for what needs to last us this week.

Problems. I have half a bottle of vodka in the freezer and two mostly full bottles of Mexican and Israeli (respectively) coffee liqueurs, and no desire to be drunk. None. Not even buzzed. I suppose I shall just pack it all away, or throw a large party for others? No, not that, must leave the house sparkling for sublettors. Incidentally, beyond reading through and shredding three months of accumulated mail, restoring my bookshelves to their former glory, emptying the kitchen and downstairs closet of my belongings and updating all of my myriad on-line payment/ receival accounts with my new (yes, once again) bank account, as well as readjusting my phone for summer unuse, I also made a nice agua de jamaica and edamame.

Clearly I am as scattered as my professor made me out to be, last week when I left his office fighting back tears. I didn't cry though, just for the record, even though I was angry as hell, and distraught. At least not in front of him. I'll show him, I will... Tomorrow I will write one kick-ass close reading in a highly organized fashion and he'll just have to eat his words... Tomorrow. There's always tomorrow.