If you were me (and a close friend has said, "That's why everyone loves your blog! They can read it and thank god their lives aren't like that!) than your day would have gone like this:
7:45 a.m. wake up out of interesting dream to sound of horrible alarm
7:45 - 8:00 a.m. deny possibility that you are waking up, vastly prefer dream life, cling hopelessly to dream in which life is sane, also, you were married to a very sexy man.
8:00 - 9:20 a.m. get up. Make coffee. Turn on computer, pay bills, discover that you are out of cheques and you've forgotten your online bill paying password, discover that car insurance people say you didn't pay last bill, snarl at daughter who meekly asks what you are doing, apologize to dog for not walking him, frantically remember that paid employment requires you to be in place at a certain time, i.e., 9:30 a.m., freak out, make lunch, take shower, run out door without lunch or cel phone.
9:30 a.m - 5:00 p.m.: The Work Day is Full of Discoveries
****1. Discover that previous people in your new position interpreted "filing" as "throwing in big heap on floor."
****2. Discover that new coworkers think you are a tool for evil management (it is true, actually, you are) and thus hate you forever.
****3. Discover that although you thought YOU were disorganized, compared to previous people in your new job you are actually Martha Stewart on crystal meth in the organization department.
****4. Discover that you can gasp a lot.
****5. Discover missing lunch. Curse. Buy turkey sandwich.
****6. Discover missing cel phone. Curse. Call son. Demand that he read first two chapters of school summer reading book before departing to adolescent happy land, a.k.a. his gang of fun friends who apparently have no parents. Son hangs up. Envision son in Dickensian land of carefree albeit tattered teenage orphans. Curse more. Get jealous.
****7. Run into one of oldest, closest friends in world, who is in town for Tom Waits concert. Remember guiltily that you had agreed to host many old friends here for said concert.
****8. Work feverishly, dash out door.
5:15 p.m. Walk to auditorium, run into plethora of old friends, walk to Jack of the Wood with them.
5:20 p.m. Call kids and apologize; it's okay, they're already gone. Feel that this is a bit unfair. Remember when they were little. Realize that they no longer need you. Thank the gods.
5:20 - 7:45 p.m. Drink heavily with old friends. Say, "Do you remember. . " way too much. Smile a lot.
7:45 p.m. - 8:30 p.m. Old friends leave for concert. Run into other group of unexpected friends who are mourning dearth of Tom Waits tickets. Drink more beer with them.
9:00 p.m. Come home. House is hot as hell. Put on sexy nylon slip because it is coollest thing you own. Put on rubber clogs. Take out compost bucket in sexy nylon slip & rubber clogs. Dump it in compost pile. Water vegetable garden in sexy nylon slip and rubber clogs. Dump compost bucket full of water on gourds at bottom of garden. Think that there is something perverse in all this, but be unable to put your finger on it. Hope devoutly that neighbors can't see you, but still, kind of weirdly enjoy rinsing out compost bucket while wearing sexy nylon slip . . . and rubber clogs.