Where in the World is MetaMegan?

MetaMegan is having an existential work/life crisis, which makes for extremely boring blog posts. When I am at the computer, which is all the time, I feel the need to work. When I am not at the computer, I am not at the computer and therefore cannot blog.

Let me know if you want to be added to my newsletter, that I will be handwriting and running through the mimeograph, and then snail mailing. Or maybe I could blog from my phone... But the 1/R key doesn't work. And the keys are so tiny. Example: "On bus to Denve. New commute is going to suck. " Not exactly my best work.

Jack goes to a hippie daycare in Boulder, where they are very in touch with their feelings. That causes me to be extremely aware about how I feel about work because whenever I start talking about it at the dinner table, Jack says, "Are you mad, Momma? Sad? Angry? Frustrated? You gonna cry?" It's very insightful.

In other Jack news, he woke me up on Saturday by screaming, "MOMMA! GET OUT HERE AND MAKE ME BREFFAST!" That was at 7:00 am. Today, when my alarm was (not) set for 5:00 am, I woke up at 7:15 to giggles from the living room. Sigh.

Luke's school conference was today, and he's a perfect little gentleman and scholar. We ran into the art teacher in the hallway and she also said she loved him, and did we have any more at home? We said, "Yes, but..."

I thought about doing the thing where you write a novel during the month of November, but I think I'll put that off and do the thing where I blog every day in the month of November. My novel planning was going like this: Go to the farmers market with cute single friend. Notice farmers checking her out. Tell her, "In my novel, you'd fall in love with the gorgeous, brooding photographer/documentarian, but he'd be all wrong for you. All along you should have been with the smiling, friendly guy from the mushroom stand." And she said, "But I like the photographer." And I said, "Exactly. But he's wrong for you. You'll see in my novel." Then I realized my novel had already been written a thousand times, so I turned it into an anecdote on my blog. Then I showed some amazing restraint in not linking to the photographer and the mushroom guy. Then I remembered I was supposed to be working and at this rate I would never get to sleep.