Monday mornings are like--

an interupted dream,
or running out of gas on the backroad you took as a short cut,
or forgetting where you came from, but remembering in a rush of images and melancholy...
Monday mornings feel like peanut butter stuck to the roof of your mouth
(yes, yours--I hate it when we're making out and I encounter that sticky mess!)
they feel like wind blowing sand into eyes
Monday's mornings should all be gathered up and shoved under a bed--
a creaky, iron-framed one with a faded pink bedspread, ruffle hanging crooked over a cold, industrial-strength speckled tiled floor...not ceramic, not linoleum...what is that stuff? Our schools had that flooring, but so did some of the older homes.
Monday mornings are foggy and groggy and unwilling to move forward,
stubborn and stuck and stretched.
Monday mornings meant very little to me when I was a waitress,
the same way that Friday nights meant only a longing to be waited on instead of waiting on.

Sorry if all that brought you down.
Did you notice that I don't enjoy Monday mornings much?
I don't mind them much, either, but I can still feel them for what they are.

We had attempted to plan a trip to Moab for this coming weekend, but...
Hubby realized he has a job to do on Saturday, and I have a meeting with my editor on Sunday,
AND the mother-in-law is planning to take all her sons' wives to dinner on Friday, as her mother's day present to us.
I know, that last one sounds a little weird, and she is, but it's a pretty sweet gesture.
(And I mean that in the old fashioned way, not the "Sweeeeeet!" way.)
So.
I think we're going to have to cancel our reservation.

Car news:
hubby has his seat adjustments saved as #3 on the memory of the driver's seat,
and mine are on #1--this is cool enough as it is, right?
So that we don't have to constantly re-figure out where we like the seat and mirrors after the other person has used the car.
(if we go somewhere together, he drives and we take my car)
Ok, so here's what we discovered over the weekend:
if he remotely unlocks the doors, the seat automatically moves into #3 position,
and if I use my remote it automatically moves back to #1.
Pretty damn cool, eh?
I am going to buy my car some flowers...

Tomorrow I am (finally) going to Ogden to visit my friend and her brand new twins!
Ok, so they're almost 3 months old, and I have visited them before.
But.
This time I'm going with the intent to give her a break.
It's really weird to see someone else going through the darkest night of twin-infancy...
I just want to run and hide, or go hug her and tell her it'll get better soon (even though it will actually be a long time before it gets "better" and life is never, ever the same), but I can't do either one.
I wish she lived a little closer...
It's a 45 minute drive, and at this point I really can't take my kids with me if I expect to be helpful to her--or to keep her from running to the nearest adoption agency and begging them to take her babies before it's too late.
heh.
Ok, ok, my kids aren't that bad.
They're friggggin awesome, actually, but twin babies are hard enough that the last thing you want to see is twin 5 year olds who wear their mother out so easily.
Case in point:
On Saturday, my neighborhood held its semi-annual "Community yard sale", since having one at any other time is strictly prohibited.
It's a little odd, but I can't say that I mind; I've never had a yard sale of my own (I happen to like my yard! har.) anyway.
It happened to coincide perfectly with the cleaning out of the kids room I did the other day, and we had a few larger toys to get rid of.
So, I thought it would be fun for the boys to participate in selling their old stuff, and then take the money and buy even more useless junk...ugh...and they were very excited about it.
Until we got there.
Then they proceeded to play with the things we were trying to sell,
and get in the way of the "customers" and snatch the money from a nice lady with a VERY snotty sounding, "That's MY money!"
Oh, god...please, send down a bolt of lightening and place the tip gently on my head, and let the electricty pulse through me with every beat of my heart, taking me further away from mortality!!
So I called Daddy dear and whimpered sweet pleas for my sanity into the phone.
He brought me a chair (oh, the sale was at the park/pool area not on our lawn) and a book and retrieved the little sweetiehearts.
Aaaaah!
I actually considered staying there in my chair even after our things sold, just so I could soak up the sun and read The Hobbit.

I can't type for SHIT this morning, so I think I'll go.
I h9ope you're all having a better Monday than a Tuesday would be.