Whack, Whack, Whack, MISS

Yesterday?  I drove.  I drove David to community college, and then I drove to a friend's house to pick up Brian and a friend from their study group.  Then I drove that friend home.  Then I drove to another friend's house to pick up my girls (I had driven them there earlier for a mosaics class), and THEN - instead of heading home - we drove to the shoe store to find dress shoes for the girls, because Brian's Confirmation is tonight.

I live in this now, apparently

I spent, in all, probably 2 hours just driving yesterday, because later I had to pick up David from school and take HIM for dress shoes (I don't know about you people, but it is a tradition here that any fancy occasion triggers the we-don't-have-dress-shoes-that-fit syndrome).  Luckily, we experienced the Miracle of Kohls and found him shoes that both fit and were appropriate for the occasion. Plus, the cashier gave me 20% off.

So! Despite all the driving, I felt proud of myself.  I GOT IT DONE.  I whacked those moles, as it were, and could sleep the sleep of the just.  That is, after I finished cutting out the 100 cloth circles I had promised our Girl Scout leader, for the re-enactment thing-y the girls are doing on Saturday at some local historical place.  No worries - I got that done, too.  I felt good.

That is, until today, when I announced to my Girl Scout leader friend my success with the cloth circles and she asked me, "Did you ever sign up for that Fall Fun Fest you said you would take our girls to?"

"Was that for today?" I asked, panic rising into my throat at the thought of everything I had already planned to do today.

"Oh, no, it's next week," she said.  "But the registration deadline was last Friday."

Smells vile - do not buy

Well, that was one mole that went unwhacked, I guess.  Who knows what other balls I've dropped?  Who knows how many other promises I've made that will not go unbroken? At least my friend, well acquainted with human fallibility in general and my personal fallibility in particular, was willing to forgive and forget.  Or maybe she just didn't want me to give up on those cloth circles?

Hey, I even made some handmade potpourri to go in them, once I discovered there wasn't any potpourri in Michael's that didn't smell disgusting.  That's something, right? Right?  Whack.