Midnight and blogging again

What is it about the so-called “witching hour” which brings me here to my little corner on the blogsphere to write and rant and rave?  I should really be hitting the sack after I started thinking about turning in maybe a half hour ago.  But there is a presentation I need to “clean up” and get ready to send tomorrow morning.  Rather than go through the rush of logging on (granting my VPN doesn’t give me problems) and then editing and uploading later, I thought I’d do the downloading and cleaning up now and just worry about sending tomorrow.

I’d send it tonight except that I am trying to be mindful of the intended recipient.  I know I don’t like receiving work e-mail in the middle of the night, even if I know I am not obligated to read or respond to the note.

I didn’t pick up my plier tonight because I was busy working yesterday.  I managed to post several items in the shop even if I didn’t get to do it until later in the day because work really got a little hectic.  For a Monday, it sure was busier than normal and I’m hoping things will slow down just a little bit tomorrow.

Busy is good, I always tell myself.  (So no, I’m not complaining.)

Coffee ground and coffeemaker programmed and ready to go.  (Check)  Thinking about breakfast tomorrow — yes, I can still make something for the hubby, little tyke is taken cared of.  Do I need anything for the little tyke?  Nothing tomorrow although I am making a mental note to go through the work he had done during the day.  We did homework while I was cooking dinner, and between me and Alan assisting him, I never got the chance to actually go over all that he was supposed to do.  I worry now that there is something that will require a major do over but I cannot do anything about it at 8 past 12midnight.

My 80-year-old mother-in-law is tinkering around in the kitchen.  It looks like she’s preparing a meal after having dinner sometime around 9:30pm.  Not really good considering she’s diabetic and will probably end up with a high blood sugar level tomorrow morning, but I’ll let Alan deal with his mom.  I have learned not to fuss when she is trying to get something in the kitchen as I sense she thinks we are being pushy in trying to help.  Although she obviously can use the help, trying to put myself in her place has made me take  a step back in respect of her desire for independence.

I’m 44 and am just 36 years away from where she’s at right now.  I am hoping all the things I’ve been doing and hope to do in the years to come will help me hold on to my memory and most of my brain cells better than she is doing at this age.  I hope I will be easier on Angelo and as I always whisper to the heavens, I hope I go AFTER Alan goes so I can take care of him.

It has always been my worry that he might be left alone and in despair if ever I end up going ahead of him.  So I keep telling him we have a pact, and I intend to stay long enough to take care of him in our old age.

Time to sleep now.

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