Email Shmemail

Email does NOT make my life easier.  Email makes me sit in front of my laptop taking care of millions of tiny things when I should be outside. You know why I have to take care of those millions of tiny things? Because I cannot pretend I didn't see them unless I annouce that I am dropping off the face of the earth.

Tempting.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Parenting should not be a desk job. I would much prefer a day of grocery shopping and fetching dry cleaning and taking the dog to the groomer. Maybe I should take the dog to the drycleaner. Don't they use starch? It may minimize the baseballs of hair collecting in the corners which I do not have time to clean becuase there is too much EMAIL!! 

In other news, yesterday I told dear precious small one that I ate a pastry for lunch. She got all tiffy with me because I didn't bring her one. Really? Is an overinflated sense of entitlement some kind middle-class virus?  Did I create this? I learned one thing: Gifts do not happen for no reason. No more Groovy Girl outfits just because they are awesome and I want to play with them. I'm going to make her work for it. From now on, it's sweeping out the ashes in the scullery little princess...

Another thing, about blogging. I think it must be something like being on the radio. You're broadcasting, but for all you know you're talking to no-one but yourself. It's a bizarre kind of self-conscious extroversion (extroversion...did I just make up another word?)