But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain;
The best-laid schemes o’ mice an ‘men
Gang aft agley,
An’lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,
For promis’d joy!
— Robert Burns
I had the day well-planned. Then I got a call from the retirement home telling me that my Mom has a toothache; I learned that the red bumps all over my son’s back and legs are probably bed bugs he picked up on a trip; and my husband announced a rush project that needed to be done yesterday.
So far, I’ve completed my husband’s project, and I’ve washed (and dried, very hot) two loads of bedding and sleeping bag stuff. Next stop, the retirement home, in order to get my Mom to the dentist. More laundry will await me upon my return, plus some carpo
This was not how I planned to spend my day.
I think that, somewhere along the line, I’m going to be drowning my sorrows in Haagen Daaz. It’s the only way to deal with these things, you know.