My husband, who is fabulous and amazing and all that jazz, has offered to pick up Tony this afternoon so that I have an hour or so to myself.
That sounded really good, in theory, but I’m freaking out.
It’s like, A WHOLE HOUR? But then again, I’m faced with the overwhelming list of things I would do if I didn’t have to be responsible for anyone. Visit the gym. Go to the mall. Go have a drink. Finally vacuum my car out. But..
I don’t know what to do by myself.
So I’m blogging.
There are times when I look at myself in the mirror and think, “Who are you and where in the hell did Sarah go?” This is one of those times.
Wish me luck. I’ve got to occupy myself for an hour.
