"Alfie"

This one doesn't work for me. Since I've also never heard this song, I'm assuming that it didn't work for many other people, either. The text isn't set very well, it isn't a great text to begin with (says too much, not focused) and it lacks a catchy melodic hook, or a real chorus. Blah blah blah.

Today I hadn't been feeling like I accomplished anything at all. When my husband got home I was listing off the things I had done, and he pointed out that I did, indeed, accomplish quite a lot today. I did the usual: dishes, laundry, and today that included looking after our daughter, on break all this week (and into next: who makes up this schedule? do they have children?). I did a massage this morning, and took my daughter in for her yearly physical this afternoon (I'm feeling very grateful today for our wonderful pediatrician, a real blessing to have a doctor that we both like). I loaded up our tax software, crunched some numbers manually, and realized that I'd have to do some of my filing to find one of the check registers that I needed. I installed the ironing board rack on my studio door to make a little more room in my studio, and started on sorting things to be filed. I stripped and made our bed, scheduled the plumber and the dishwasher installer, found and ordered a new bed for our daughter, and played a board game with her.

All that even looks reasonable when I see it printed out, but all day I kept thinking that I needed to not only start but finish my filing, and I had also really wanted to do some yoga today. Hurry up and relax.

Part of my anxiety, I know, is knowing that I am only beginning what will be a very long week of my daughter being on break. We have fun together, and we're not going through a particularly rough patch, even, but I know that I find my patience wearing thin at times when my momentum is constantly interrupted, and I must get it moving in a productive direction again, only to have it again interrupted by her needs.

Today our largest argument was also particularly frustrating: she saw a group of unsupervised children as we were driving home through the city, and she was very worried about them. Though I assured her that they were probably fine, most likely close to home and in each other's company, she felt that we should check on them, and she was in tears when I wouldn't turn around to do so. Ugh. Yet again: so many chances to be a bad mother.