I was going to post a picture, but I’m on Not So’s laptop, which means I’m only using one browser, which means – you really want to hear this? Okay – I’m not logged in to Flickr under my Cranky Mama alias, so I can’t grab the code for the image I want. The short version is “because.”

Today I went to the office, where there is STILL NO BLOODY INTERNET, and spent the day stitching together the various and sundry body parts of a new batch of Cranky Pals. Then I came home so I could work some more! My life, you wish it was yours. Also, I wore unflattering jeans, but that’s okay since I haven’t exactly been feeling like a sex beast, what with the death in the family and the…death in the family. Yeah, weirdly, that’s not hot. I was surprised too.

The kid is currently sleeping on my chest (I’m in bed, which is the beauty of using the laptop). You will note that is is 9pm; he’s been out since 8. Miracle? Why yes, if you call the Great Nap Boycott of 2007 a miracle. At least it means I can get some work done without anyone jumping on my head. Yes, cats, that means you.

*…not really. But it made me giggle, so it stays.

So I forced myself to leave the house today, mostly because there’s been a check stuck to the fridge for almost a week that really, really wanted to be deposited. We had a perfectly fun time running errands, Happy Fun Baby and me, but the poor kid was worn out after a trip to the bank and the toy store (because, hey, toy store) that I did not drag him to the Fabulous Jackpot Records store and instead brought him home. Where he so did not fall asleep, opting instead to get more and more hyper and frenetic until I finally had to bodily hold him down in order to get him to take a nap. Now I feel like the world’s worst mother, since I was not exactly a bundle of cheer and good humor while convincing the kid to sleep. Another quarter for the therapy jar. Ping!

Most of the reason I’m so cranky is that I’m trying to find a Flash app for a client’s site, and I *think* some of the ones I located will work, only – and hey, minor detail – I don’t know Flash. I don’t even have Flash, exactly, except that the kind people at the Adobe booth at Voices That Matter gave me a CS3 Web Premium trial disk so I could install it on this computer, assuming a) it doesn’t cause my system to explode and b) I can get a real copy by the end of the month. Which c) I have to do anyway since it’s the last time I’ll be able to use my student discount, without which we would be somewhat less able to afford it. But, so, I’m trying to figure out Flash now, and it isn’t exactly a piece of cake. Especially with a frenetic toddler in the background. (Yes, we’re back to the beginning again.)

I’d like to write, because I had the BEST IDEA EVER while waiting for the bus, but unfortunately it was for the book I’m not currently working on. Dilemma: waste precious NaNoWriMo time on the other book, or risk losing inspiration? Or scrap them both for today since I have to figure out how to program in Flash?

So. Day 1 of NaNoWriMo. Also Day 1 of NaBloPoMo, which, if I were of sound mind, I would simply ignore, but – oh, surprise! – I am not. Ignoring. Or in sound mind. Where was I again?

Right, the crazy, and why I should not be allowed to sign up for things. I think being over scheduled makes me feel useful. That’s the going theory, anyway, and I’m sticking with it until something better comes up.

This post, however? Not useful. But it’s November 1, and I’m posting. Whee.

I had the right idea on the way down. Sitting at the airport, waiting for my flight to San Fran, I cracked open the laptop and started working on my long-abandoned first novel, which I rediscovered while backing up my old hard drive. Reading through it, my first thought was “Huh – it’s not that bad.” My second was “…and I know what it needs to be better.” I was merrily typing away when my plane boarded, and away went the laptop.

As it turned out, that was the last time I turned on the computer for fun my whole trip.

The trip was, in theory, broken into two parts. My “vacation” schedule was thus:

Saturday
5pm flight lands, 7pm get to SC, have dinner with sister & brother-in-law, pretend I’m not on the verge of collapse due to skipping lunch
7:30pm – 9pm: Oh, I’ve got a little break. I’ll just catch up on some work.
9pm: Dancing at the Dakota, where :cue sympathy: not even one of my friends bothered to stop by and say hello, despite the fact that I’d posted several bulletins saying “I’ll be in town! Come play with me!,” 12am back to Bec’s, where I do a little more work and then go to bed at 2.

Next day:
9am breakfast, work, 11am pedicures, 1pm meetup with Emily and Mia, 5pm dinner with Maggie, 9pm back to Bec’s, 10pm work, 1am sleep.

Monday, though tecnically the first day of the “Business” portion of my trip, I decided to “take some time off.” This seemed somewhat reasonable (given that I hadn’t had any downtime yet) and turned out to be a huge, massive, all-encompassing mistake. Because, see, when I was tooling around Santa Cruz feeling vaguely bereft but pleasantly unencumbered? I could have been working. And if I had been working, I would have at least been closer to being caught up, instead of firing up the laptop Tuesday morning and realizing that I have more work to do than any one person could do in a week…plus 8 hours of conference every day. But I digress. Monday, lovely day, hung out with Maggie and then hung out with Emily and generally felt better than one should feel on a Monday, especially when one’s kid is several hundred miles away. And then, after the lovely Miss Emily got back in her car and I was alone in the city, I realized something I should have thought of weeks ago.

There is only one of me.

Yeah! I know. I was shocked too.

So the me who was going to take it easy and spend my downtime crocheting and watching primetime TV? Out. The me who had grandiose plans of spending my evenings immersed in my writing and finally, finally getting to concentrate on the book for more than an hour at a time? Out. The me who was going to spend the week being gregarious and outgoing and picking the brains of the lecturers? Out. (This one was a real disappointment, because I’d been psyching myself up for weeks. But do you have any idea how much energy it takes for the pathologically introverted to do things like smile and not hide under tables? More energy than I have on any average work day, I can tell you that right now.)

And that left us with the usual me, the one who works like mad during every free second so that I can feel like I’m not a complete waste of space. I so dislike the feeling of being unprofessional and unresponsive that I actually worked during several lectures, flipping manically between taking notes and making intricate modifications to a comp in Photoshop so that I could email it to the client before the end of the day. After at least a few of the sessions, of course, I wanted to talk to the speaker (because his or her presentation had been fascinating) but I was afraid that I’d say something that would make it obvious that I hadn’t been paying adequate attention. Because god forbid I don’t know the answer to every question before I ask it! I bug me.

Naturally this did WONDERS for my already overwhelming sense that I really didn’t belong, given that I’m nowhere near being an expert in anything web-related, and clearly had nothing of any interest to say to anyone. (I scurried quickly back to the hotel after the conference each evening so my cavernous, gaping ignorance wouldn’t embarrass me.)

This, my friends, was my vacation. I missed my kid. I missed my husband. I spent a bunch of money at Sephora. (Okay, that part wasn’t so bad.) And I squandered the opportunity to rub shoulders with people I admire in favor of making myself crazy trying to be three places at once.

I ask you, internets: what the hell is wrong with me?

I signed up for NaNoWriMo. Why? Because I am a crazy person. Seriously, I have time for this? Between kid, work, school, visiting relatives, and Thanksgiving? (I probably don’t even have to mention that I have one, maybe two projects that are on a tighttighttight 30-day deadline.) Yes, clearly I can also write 50,000 words. Who needs sleep?

I fully intend to do it, though, because it will be good for me. I think too much. I plan too much. What could be more therapeutic than 30 days of enforced brain-dump? At worst, I’ll have some prolific sludge; at best, the bare-bones beginning of the Mommyfiction novel I’ve been making noises about for the last year. (My actual work in progress novel – er, one of them, anyway – already has 30,000 words, so it’s out of the NaNo running.) C’mon, it’ll be fun.

Speaking of “fun,” I’m leaving in two days for a web design conference. I will be away from my kid for five entire days. Days in which I will not be able to snuggle him or kiss his head even once. I think I might die.

As you can see (from a screenshot! Of the sidebar! Of this very blog! Oh, I am so meta it hurts), I’ve completely and utterly failed in my goal to run 10 times in 4 weeks. According to my widget, I have 7 days to finish 8 runs. Which, sure. I could. But, let’s be serious people, I won’t. Some people say “Don’t start something unless you can finish it.” I say “Don’t fail quietly when you could fail spectacularly.” (Actually I don’t say that at all. Except that I just did.)

Seriously, though? I’ve been too busy to jog (even the sad, short little jogs of yestermonth). Projects deadlining, photo shoots, print work, proposals (to clients; I’m not looking to expand my marital options), school, sick babies, PMS, toymaking, med-juggling…it’s been a three-ring circus around here, and not the nice Ringling Bros. kind. (What am I even talking about? Am I about to embark on a metaphor about evil clowns? Everyone knows I love evil clowns.)

School in particular is pissing me off. First, there was the schedule. Two classes this session instead of my usual one. Each session is 5.5 weeks long, so two classes are going to make my head spin, but whatever. Then there was the bill, which I thought surely, surely was a mistake. I even called, laughing: “Someone misplaced a decimal point! Can you send me a new bill, with my real balance?” But no. There was no misplaced decimal point. Since I am taking two classes instead of my usual one, my financial aid won’t cover the difference in tuition. I can’t not take the extra class, since – and this was news to me – my graduation date has been moved from next spring to the middle of December. So, uh, yay? Except not, since apparently I have to pull $2500 out of the air and bestow it upon my learning institution. Yes please, allow me to pay you for the privilege of putting me $30,000 in debt! Please, sir, may I have another?

But, whatever. (Is this becoming my mantra?) I’ll be done with school in December (apparently), so at least I can take a break before deciding whether I want to go back to get my Bachelor’s. (Yes. This is only an Associate’s degree. I suck.) Part of me still wishes I was working toward somehow attending the Iowa Writer’s Workshop, but since a) I have a web design company now and b) I do not live in or near Iowa, I guess it’s time to let that one go. Despite my regular check-ins, my husband is still unwilling to uproot us and live in Iowa for a year while I get my geek on. (The Iowa question is second only to “Don’t you want another one,” to which the answer, also, continues to be “No.”) Instead, I will have a useless degree to assist me in starting a career I already have. Go me!

Oh, doom! Oh, gloom! Would you believe that I’m actually feeling better?

The newest addition to the Cranky family is, as usual, a Henry. This one is pink, and also a pirate. Arr.

I keep fussing around with the Cranky Pals website and I’ve added topside navigation, so now it is ABUNDANTLY CLEAR how people can click buttons to buy things from me. This is kind of me, I think. I mean, there could be any number of people out there, desperate to give me their money, but unable to do so because of my shoddy navigation.

In other news, I also added the Yodel shirt to the lineup. The Yodel shirt entertains me, because every time Not So wears it, everyone asks him about it. It’s the tongue, I’m convinced. (Yodel’s tongue; not my husband’s.) I made one for one of Happy Fun Baby’s toddler friends, too, but I didn’t take a picture. Too bad, because I bet it’s really freaking cute.

Yes, it’s a Saturday. Time to spiff up the websites. You know how it is.

Oh! And on Monday, check out couldbe studios. We’re going Pink for October. All the cool kids are doing it. I might even do it on this blog, if I can get it together to change the CSS in time. (We’re all a little under the weather here, so don’t count on it.)

Tags: crankypals, yodel, henry, pirate, pink for october, couldbe studios, crafts