I’ve been messed up since Tuesday. For some reason, the kids have Wednesday off, the day before Thanksgiving, which means Tuesday was their last day of school for the week. As if they need that extra day to get stuff ready or something. Conversely, I have a list of something like 6,237 things need to be done before Thanksgiving, but I’ll be spending Wednesday at the office.
I was tempted to tell them the make a couple of pumpkin pies and be sure the turkey got rinsed and brined, but I didn’t think the Puddinette would be overly enthusiastic about turning a potentially ptomaine-laden tornado loose in our kitchen while simultaneous making the Thanksgiving turkey we’ll be serving to both our entire families an inedible disaster.
Seriously, I’d have come home to find whipped cream dripping from the ceiling and the turkey basted in peanut butter.
You know, for extra browning.
At any rate, the kids have Wednesday off, which gave Tuesday a last-day-of-the-week feel. Except Wednesday is the last day of the work week for me. My brain therefore spent most of the day trying to reconcile those two things, but failed miserably. Ultimately it ended up just assuming Wednesday would be The Big Day.
With that in mind, here’s how I expect my Wednesday to go:
7:30 AM: Wake up, walk the dog, shuffle to the refrigerator to get the Attitude his morning apple juice cocktail. Panic momentarily at seeing the turkey still in the ‘fridge, wrapped as purchased. Consider the possibility of McGuyvering some form of "pressure brining device" with a vacuum bell jar, duct tape, and vice grips.
7:31 AM: Remember with relief that’s it’s actually Wednesday, and that there’s still plenty of time to brine. Frown while considering the list of all 6,237 things needing to be done before Thanksgiving.
8:11 AM: Tell the kids goodbye. Attempt to make them feel guilty that while they’ll be gaily persecuting the Puddinette all morning and afternoon, I’ll be slaving at my desk.
8:32 AM: Arrive at work, note tumbleweeds rolling down the hallway in lieu of half the usual workforce. Consider lying about "intestinal issues" and going home, but then realize that as an adult and parent, you’re supposed to be a "role model".
8:57 AM: Overdose on black coffee and donuts in an attempt to make yourself feel better about "doing the right thing".
9:24 AM: Exhibiting jittery hands and twitching eyelids, consider the possibility that you’ve got a caffeine and sugar high versus a permanent twitch in the deep recesses of your brain (likely where your childhood Transformers memories live) that will forever have people asking if you have Turrets. Mumble that at least the insanity twitch would get you of work sooner.
9:27 AM: Curse at clock for withholding lunch time. As a last resort, turn to email, consider how you’d spend that 56 million dollars you would earn by helping the "Prinsce Ministor of Nigeria" (sic) illegally import his cash. Giggle slightly and then turn to actual work projects.
11:44 AM: Decide it’s close enough for lunch. Consume lunch with hearty aplomb.
11:48 AM: Curse self that lunch was consumed in less time than it takes your Uncle Irving the Drunk to get into and out of a bath room.
12:02 PM: Curse others just beginning their lunches while you again resort to actual work in a last-ditch effort to prevent insanity.
2:14 PM: Consider taking a 23 minute, completely unnecessary, "restroom break", because, hey at least it would break up the day. Reject plan on basis that nothing good will likely result.
3:24 PM: Curse clock for going too slow on purpose.
3:25 PM (Gah!): Curse clock for going too slow on purpose.
3:25 PM (Ugh!): Curse clock for going too slow on purpose.
3:25 PM (STILL—WTF?!?): Curse clock for going too slow on purpose.
3:27 PM: Answer a wrong number, curse clock for going too slow on purpose.
3:39 PM: Review mental list of all 6,237 things needing to be done before Thanksgiving
3:58 PM: Log off computer, shut laptop
3:59 PM: Fantasize about pumpkin pie, grimace at mental list of all 6,237 things needing to be done before Thanksgiving
4:00 PM: In a cartoonish puff of smoke and wavy lines, disappear out the office door.
4:17 PM: Arrive home to find the kitchen still in one piece, the Puddinette only slightly the worse for wear, and your darling children mostly unaffected by your (at last) return.
4:18 PM: Orally review Puddinette’s hand-written list of 6,237 things needing to be done before Thanksgiving. Die a little bit on the inside.
4:19 PM: Grumble as you begin checking down list of 6,237 things needing to be done before Thanksgiving. What was the rush for, again? Why did the work day have to go by so fast?
I’d like to wish everyone a happy Day-Before-Thanksgiving! I hope all that brining, mixing, injecting, baking, cleaning, vacuuming, and, well, drinking, goes well.
And may tomorrow be full of mahogany birds with crispy skin, dressing just like mom’s, an overabundance of fixin’s, and hearts full of real thankfulness.
Pud’n
Puddintopia 