Monday, Monday

When you sit down to write something, it's always best to have a point.

But just so you know, I've spent the whole day looking for one, but I haven't found it yet.

And now it's 10:30 p.m., so I figured, shit, I'll have to write a post even though I still don't have a point.

So I'll tell you about my day.

First, I swept the house clean of human life. Except for my husband, who decided to make a 9:00 conference call from home. Just to be nice, I canceled my plans to go into the living room and conduct Wagner's Ring cycle by playing all four operas on CD and waving my arms around while I made soulful faces in the mirror over the fireplace. This is my usual Monday routine, but out of the goodness of my heart, I thought I'd skip it just this once so my husband could make his call.

I also neglected to do the laundry, which is another one of my Monday routines.

I did make the beds, though. And I picked up my daughter's room, which was so messy that wow, someone was going to get her butt spanked! But then I realized that since my daughter was at school, and my husband was busy downstairs blathering away about patent litigation, and mine was the nearest butt, that someone was going to have to be me. I didn't want to get spanked, so I picked up her room.

OK, so that was pretty exhausting, so I took a three hour break to read your blogs. And check my email. Where I found an email from a high school classmate to remind me that whoops, I'm old. Shit!

So I went to the supermarket to buy frozen dinners, because what spells youthful joie de vivre like stocking up on frozen dinners for the babysitter to give your kids--the babysitter you have to hire to watch your kids? Because your kids--and by extension, you--are so young? I mean, what's drabber and dowdier than being an empty nester? Right?

Then I put on a lot of makeup, including some red lipstick mixed in with my usual my-lips-but-better shade of pinky-brown, because what projects dewy-fresh naivete like bright red lipstick on your teeth? Nothing, that's what.

Then I drove downtown to have dinner with my husband. I had Alaskan Halibut, because what says "you need to eat more fish and build up your brain?" like this blog?

But then! Then we went to the theater to hear Music of the Baroque. But the joke was on us, because Music of the Baroque wasn't playing tonight. Instead, we walked in on the final dress rehearsal of Chicago Opera Theater's latest production, John Adam's wacky romp The Flowering Tree. Because nothing says "get some fucking reading glasses" like showing up at the theater on Monday for Tuesday night's performance.

And nothing says "I used to be on the board of Chicago Opera Theater " like my tactful refusal to tell the internet what I thought of the performance.

And now we have to do the whole dinner/concert thing over again tomorrow. The good news is that I'll have the opportunity to top off the tank with more fish. Which is good, because as I think I've made clear, an adequate amount of brain-cell-fostering fish has obviously been missing in my diet. And it is SORELY NEEDED, my friends.