When Ziva and Michael announced this challenge, I admit my first thought was to poison both of them. Then I thought of Ziva and her whip and then I just stopped thinking. And I agreed to participate. What I didn’t realize, however, is that there is a secret clause or some really teeny tiny fine print somewhere that says if you agree to participate and you miss a couple of days, some unnamed person (Michael Whiteman-Jones) will start openly speculating about the possibility that you’ve died and the rumours will fly.
Let me reassure you all, I am not dead. As I explained to Michael and Ziva, I’ve been exceptionally swamped at work. Also, I’m leaving for a trade show in Las Vegas at the beginning of October and the prep work is grueling. It’s so difficult selecting multipurpose attire that works for business meetings, hanging out in strip clubs, lounging poolside and passing out drunk in wedding chapels.
On the home front, my parents spent the summer in Greece and only returned this week, so I’ve basically been managing two households all summer long. Which really means that I didn’t do squat at their house all summer and then realized two weeks ago that they were coming back and then scrambled to get their house in order – you know, buying new plants identical to the ones that died during the Great Drought of ’13, using a sickle to mow the 4-ft tall grass and throwing out all the things left in the fridge that I was supposed to have taken home with me 4 months ago.
Oh, and did I mention I’ve also been raising my three sons as well as my other – and definitely NOT better – half, Jepeto? My youngest son, Max, has started first grade which means he now has homework that is supposed to take 20 minutes to do – tops! – according to his teacher and yet somehow still manages to take 45 minutes to an hour. Maybe because Max has inherited his father’s attention span. And his mother’s ability to digress. Sigh.
And of course, I’ve been participating in the photo challenge. In my spare time.
Please don’t get me wrong. I’m not whining – no matter what Michael says! – I’m just stating the facts. Ok, and maybe whining a little bit too. Whatever. But I appreciate you all listening. And I’d like to return the favour. So please, pull up a chair. Help yourself to some cheese or just pick your poison, tell me about your troubles and let’s drown our sorrows together.
To see who else isn’t dead but is likely drunk, go visit Ziva’s blog.