Good Times

Tom has accepted that we'll be paying the $475 truancy fine, even though we got Corey to school every day.  He was always on campus; the school failed to keep him in class.  (Two teachers have told me that they "should have called" when they saw him out and about.  I didn't respond with anything remotely like what I was actually thinking when I heard that.)  Personally, I believe the principal should pay the fine or risk having his driver's license suspended.  But that's just me. 


Corey's printout from the Department of Juvenile Probation was clean, as we'd expected.  Job Corps will be pleased to know that not being a criminal is something my son has going for him.


Pulling an illegal and - worse! - badly done U-Turn in front of a police officer, I have decided, is an expensive lesson for Corey.  Accept responsibility when you make a mistake.  Remain cordial, find the humor and do what you can to avoid making the same (incredibly stupid fricking) mistake again.  That's right.  I did it for my son.


Around 1:00 yesterday afternoon someone said to me, "Shanni... is your shirt on inside out?  Is it?  I mean, some people do that like a style thing."  Dude.  I was fully dressed.  My bra was completely on.  What else do you people want from me?!?


I had my first cup of coffee in about 17 months.  Decaf.  It was heavenly.  I'm sensitive enough to caffeine that it still made me stoopid.  After lunch, I returned to my office.  Twice I started to say, "Hey girl!  How's it going?" or something along those lines before realizing that the woman in front of me was, in fact, not the boss' assistant.  And by "started to say" I mean words had begun flowing from my mouth.  With sound.


Ten minutes after I went ahead and introduced myself to the woman (who thought I was just very friendly), I did the same thing.  With another woman.  Only this time the new not-someone-I-know looked like my friend's mom.  Friend's mom, Maria, is a teacher and we do have teachers in and out of our office all the time, but I couldn't fathom why she'd be wearing a badge from our office as she does not work in special education.  Or why the name on her badge... which I could only make out while squinting deeply as she approached... was Julie.


I am almost out of those handy wipes that are specially made for breast pump parts.  I plan to buy more.  In the meantime, I'm trying to find places to wash out the parts after pumping.  Happened to be in a restaurant recently and had it fall out of my purse and onto the floor in front of servers who are dear to me, but not exactly mi familia.  Yesterday I brought it into the office, but the restrooms upstairs were closed.  On my way to the staff lounge I saw a man I thought I might know (I'm pretty sure I was right).  Yes, I did start to wave with the hand holding breast pump pieces.


And last, today it took about seven tries to get the buttons lined up on my shirt after pumping on the way to the office. Eventually I had to get out and do it in the reflection of car. I wasn't exposing myself. I had on a tank top (that I realized two hours ago was inside out. What?)