I am a lady who lunches or would lunch if I could find the time to eat with all this complaining I have to do

Today I was contemptlaing the size of my upper arms and wondering where in the world I would find the time to squeeze in a yoga DVD everyday-- and I was, like, seriously stressed about the time thing. I started ticking off yesterday's schedule in my head to sort of prove to myself that I was exercising as much as I could. I mean, I was up by 7:30, and I had to be totally dressed by noon when Jamie showed up-- that's only 4 and a half hours. Then because of poor planning on my part, it took me until almost 2:45 to get my pedicure. I spent another 2 hours trolling for Fathers Day gifts and while waiting until my polish dried so I could go to the gym without smudging my toes. Then I had to trow dinner together by 6. I mean, that is a FULL DAY, and I didn't even mention the laundry I put away while the babysitter gave the boys lunch. Ugh. I am tied just thinking about it.

Sarcasm, my friends, in case it didn't come across. My life these days is a little, um, not as hard as it used to be?

About the third time I called Ben (at work where he was working) to complain that all the walk in cheapy pedicure places were packed yesterday, and I was going to have to waiitttttttt in liiiiine and read oooooooold magazines, he totally lost his patience and stopped taking my calls. I went to an actual salon to get my nails done (where, thanks Karma, I got the worst pedicure I have ever gotten-- I actually had to exfoliate my feet and repaint two nails at home-- actions that threw Ben into a tizzy of martyrdom because he had to do part of BOTH kids' bedtimes).

But then I realized, I am acting like kind of an entitled asshole these days. I am just sort of at loose ends, though, without deadlines and the like. Although if I procrastinate any longer on prepping my summer class, I will be pulling 11 hour days again in no time. Luckily my dissertation advisor must have sensed my identity crisis because she emailed me about a book chapter project we have ben working on for 3 years to let me know that it really is really due on Monday, so my dance card this week is blissfully full.

But the yoga thing. Seriously. I am wearing a tank top to Harry's birthday part this weekend, and my arms? Not tank top ready. Maybe I'll finally get the 30 day shred and do it like 7 times a day to up the shreddiness factor.

I used to complain about how busy I was. Now? I complain about too much leisure time. Ben-- he is a lucky, lucky man.