If Anyone Says I Have a Case of the Mondays, I Will Smack Them

I had one of those weekend that sucked for no real reason. Consequently my Monday morning feels suckier than usual.

So what did I do this weekend?

Um.....

Friday evening...made dinner...got the kids to bed...finally booked a place for a some skiing over winter break...watched "Vanity Fair" (which sucked).

Saturday....made breakfast...waiting online for TWO HOURS for baseball tickets, then got crappy seats to our third choice game...had major conflict with M...made lunch...settle S for a nap...did manage to row for an hour (12, 314 meters, or 7.65 miles)...returned a pair of mislabeled ski pants...bought dog food...made dinner...helped C and his friend get some music off iTunes (having forgotten how funny Weird Al is to preadolescent boys)...watched "Talladega Nights: The Legend of Ricky Bobby" while folding laundry (it was okay).

Sunday...made breakfast...made it to church, even staying for the annual meeting...made lunch...settled S for a nap....rowed again (6000 meters, or 3.7 miles)...went to the grocery store while husband and kids when on a short hike with some friends...made dinner...scrambled to help M with a project for school...more laundry...managed to forget to watch "Jane Eyre" on Masterpiece Theater, even though I had been looking forward to it for a week..

And that was about it. It was one of those weekends when I felt like I am losing my identity as an individual.

So I sit here wondering what the hell it is I want to be when I grow up. How do I figure it out at make it happen? Meanwhile the to do list for everyday life is a mile long.

To paraphrase David Byrne and Talking Heads, "Well, how did I get here?"