I have so many things to do that I’m going to blog. It’s that or curl up in a ball in the back of my closet and hope nobody finds me for a couple weeks.
Actually, my closet is such a disaster there is no possible way I could wedge myself in there–barring liberal amounts of Vaseline. Cleaning that out is one of those items on the to-do list.
Way, way, way, way down at the bottom of the to-do list.
Which means I’ll probably procrastinate by doing that, right after I do this.
I will write those three syllabus..es.. syllabi…es? (See, I’m so overwhelmed, I’m hypercorrecting myself.)
I will plan, at the very least, a decent first-day lesson for those three classes. Preferably the first two days. Three?
I will find that phone number for the health insurance people.
I will find enough time during business hours to outwait the answering system, and make sure my son’s ridiculously expensive, out of town diagnostic testing is covered, at least partially by someone other than primarily me.
I will find a sub, and figure out how to schedule a sub, and write sub plans for the fourth day of school so that I can accompany said son to the big, bad, children’s medical hospital so he doesn’t have to go by himself.
I will Google-map and print out directions to said hospital so I can actually make it there in time after my sub arrives.
I will log on tonight to the college math course I’m teaching online and do that… thing I’m supposed to do tonight. Thing? Things? Several things.
I will reschedule that portrait session the ID people want me to already have done, but I didn’t get done because the local portrait studio couldn’t figure out how to get the correct background to come down, and so I came home kind of relieved because honestly, I look like… well, like I feel, today.
I will contact Warden School District to find out why they haven’t sent those forms to my current district that I pled with them, and drove all the way out there to pester them in person for over six weeks ago.
I will go shopping for all those things I forgot to buy off my children’s 199 item supply lists. (Coffee filters are forgivable; but how did I forget looseleaf?)
I will… do that other thing that now I can’t even remember… oh, contact my own high school in hopes they have immunization records for me from two decades ago. Alternatively, I’ll need to schedule a time to become a human pincushion so that I don’t have to stay home from work every time a contagious illness breaks out.
I will make eye appointments for the two children who yesterday failed the vision part of their physicals so atrociously that the doctor was stunned they could find their way across the room.
I will make sure my son’s college schedule is correct, because, well, he is intrinsically male.
I will sort out the financial aid/billing snafu at my daughter’s college, because, well, I don’t have six thousand more dollars by Friday and I swear, $22k should have covered it. Maybe they still have her listed by her middle name or something. Fixing it 23 times in the computer probably isn’t enough.
I also will make sure my son’s tuition is taken care of by Thursday, lest that painstakingly-wrought schedule be wiped out at midnight because of overdue tuition.
I will get up early enough to get to my three (read them, three) different classrooms are adequately set up for the first day of school.
I will figure out how to submit a help-ticket to the technology guy about that computer issue. After that, hopefully I’ll be able to check and deal with all that email that district people keep telling me they sent my way.
I will not rip the head off the next child who asks me where the scissors/glue/notebooks/shoelaces/bandaids/their own toes are.
I will figure out how to be a reasonable mother-on-the-first-day-of-school tomorrow morning, when 1/3 of my children are attending brand new schools. (That’s not counting the two college kids, who are, but not tomorrow.) They probably all want breakfast and lunches and dinner.
I should probably eat something at some point, too.
Running? Pffft. Garden? I’m going to be magnanimous and turn it over to the wildlife. Mountain of mail? None of it looks terribly official. Laundry? Holy smokes. Nobody has anything to wear tomorrow. I better stop making this list and get busy whittling away at it.