Poppisima, the Opiate of the Masses

OK, so first I have to say what I'm drinking. White wine. Some random plonk my husband opened at dinner time and which is now finally cold enough to be potable. So potable that I think I'll go downstairs and get some more.

Back.

OK, so what did I do today? (Why do I feel like a kid at my parents' dinner table?) Well, mostly I worked on scheduling/organizing the school year, which time frame also coincides with the social season as we know it here in Chicago. In other words, I drug out the calendar and started filling in the dates my kids are out of school, evenings we'll be at the opera/ballet/various parties, etc.

And I came to the conclusion that time does NOT go faster when you get older. It's just that if you ask a six year old "What's on your calendar for February 2005?" he'll answer "hunh?" Whereas if you're a grown-up, there's a decent chance that you'll know something or other that you'll be doing at a point which I like to think of as five months in the future. (Although the jury is still out on that whole space/time continuum thing, so who knows?)

I do know this. This chablis--when I refilled, I checked, and it's chablis--is pretty decent.