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Jett Superior laid this on you on || December 20, 2002 || 2:02 am

Beginning at six ay emm yesterday (approximately twenty hours ago), I:

-Made a last-minute run to the grocery store for school Christmas party chocolates

-cooked biscuits and gravy and sausage for five

-ironed three pairs of pants and two shirts to put on waiting bodies (mine included)

-dropped three children off at appropriate school-type places

-did three loads of laundry

-swore at the dog after discovering the front door wide open and realizing that the dog now knows how to turn the knob to the front door, so we are officially screwed

-made a mental note to neuter that fucking dog as soon as humanly possible

-chased the dog, attempting to get him back into the house

-got muddy chasing the dog and swore at him some more

-played ball with the dog, cajoling him to come inside

-showered, put on fresh clothing

-stripped all the beds, re-made them with clean linens

-went to the photo shop to pick up copies and enlargements

-bought a shameful amount of baking supplies at the grocery (enough, in fact, to take care of a small third world country should they need almond biscotti and delicately-iced teacakes)

-clocked in enough minutes on my mobile phone before eleven ay emm to meet half my plan’s requirements for the month (which, by the way, does not roll over until the eleventh of next month….I’m screwed)

-wrapped six gifts

-shipped niece’s birthday gift and three purses to various regions of the country

-mailed two dozen Christmas cards

-ate a turkey on rye, spicy mustard-laden

-went into the ‘real’ job

-did requisite ‘real’ job stuff, to include choking back frustration and the pressing want to bang my head on the keyboard until my brains spewed, moist and steaming, all over the fucking thing

-fielded afternoon calls and subsequent requests from offsprings one and two

-went to bread store

-picked up littlest of brood from preschool

-ordered pizza for Sam and best friend, whose mother Sam was being picked up by for a sleepover

-put in that stupid fucking ‘Ice Age’ movie (which Mathias refers to as ‘Icy Cage’) upon request

-put in another load of laundry

-listened to Scout regale me with tales of her day as I cooked dinner

-made spaghetti, salad, and crusty french bread

-downed a glass of wine and, as an afterthought, said a couple of Hail Marys and Our Fathers so that I could call it communion

-had another glass

-served dinner

-cleaned up kitchen (second time for the day)

-scooted Scouty into her basketball uniform

-attended basketball game, yelled epithets at refs (okay, that part wasn’t out loud, just in my head)

-dropped Scout at friend Katherine’s for a sleepover, made requisite chit-chat with K’s mom

-went to the grocery for smokes and Mathias’ Christmas party stuff

-put Mathias in the bath, then in the bed

-contemplated my existence, got a little afraid, put clothes into the dryer

-made ten pounds of peanut butter fudge while listening to Bob Dylan (’tis the season)

-hand-tinted the fourteen photos picked up earlier in the day, to include two nerve-wracking sixteen-by-twenties

-swore at whomever forgot to chain the front door

-swore at the dog, then SLAMMED the front door

-felt bad and apologized, dog came back in (only because it was cold, that fucker)

-mopped a couple floors

-scrubbed a couple toilets

-felt dizzy and nauseous

-got all cynical and negative, thinking a bout of Christmassy flu is at hand, when God and everybody are coming to my house for Christmas week

-nursed my hot peanut butter fudge-induced finger injuries (splash burns SUCK)

-cleaned the kitchen (third time’s a charm)

-gave up on the day, blogged some shit, read some other blogs

….and now I am heading for bed. I’m so fucking tired, man….and I didn’t get half of what I wanted to get done accomplished.

I’ll paint a nice, healthy target on if somebody will just shoot me now.

8 worked it out »

  1. SylvIain 12.20.2002

    What an attractive blog you have here!

  2. brynne 12.20.2002

    You’re my hero, Jett… all that and you can make biscuits and sausage gravy? Tell me the biscuits weren’t made from scratch… I’ll probably swoon. ;)

  3. delmer 12.20.2002


  4. Sean M. 12.20.2002

    Wow, remind me to kick the next guy who bitches about the holidays in the nuts. (unless it’s my commander, oh what the hell) Anyways, Mother’s are amazing people… I’ll always have a TON of respect for what you people do!

  5. Anonymous 12.20.2002

    Well, del, I can only aspire to be the goat fondler that you are….

    Syl: thankee sai.

    Bryndo: I MAKE BISCUITS FROM SCRATCH! You may swoon, but fainting is frowned upon here at Superior Industries.

    SHAME ON YOU SEAN! I’ve never NEVER, not EVER kicked a boy in his petunias. I look at it this way: were I a hapless male, would I want it done to me? No, because that’s one more person I would have to bloody up. And I wouldn’t want my reproductive life in jeopardy. But that’s just me. SO, rethink that course of action, sir.

  6. Jett Superior 12.20.2002

    And I’m not fucking ANONYMOUS (see below). I’m just too hurried these days to waste time on trivial things such as names.

  7. brynne 12.20.2002

    If I fainted, I wouldn’t get any BISCUITS now would I?

    Y a gotta remember what’s important.

  8. delmer 12.21.2002

    jett…no goat love for you!

    hey sean, remember to keep those knees locked during formations.

    nyquill cures all…that is all.


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