My pilates instructor is sick today. Scratchy dry throat – probably the thing I had two weeks ago. Child Two is sick too, poor boy, snotty and sleepy and wrung out. And though I swore to my trainer I’d get up and work out on my own, I find myself more compelled to stay in bed reading the papers, checking Twitter and writing. Stretching my atrophying brain muscle feels more important these days than fighting off the inevitability of my sagging flesh. And so I eek out a few extra reclining moments to read this morning’s Maureen Dowd missive about how women’s lives are getting unhappier as men seem to be on the upswing. No great revelation there. Yes folks, choice has made women more miserable. DUH!!!
Depressed by the NYT, I postpone my morning journey through Page Six to think quickly about the day ahead, which will be capped by College Night at Child One’s Super Duper Crunchy School. Sig Other is working and won’t make it. So Child One will be escorted by my Ex-Wife and me. I’m sure this will make her very happy – a night out with the Lesbian Mothers is much more harmonious than a night out with both biological parents. Child One will be freed of navigating and negotiating the waters that run crazy through the space between divorced people – alternately still and suddenly turbulent. More to come as it seems Child One’s approaching College Years will be the subject of much discussion both tonite, tomorrow and beyond…
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