A Day in the Life of a Lupie

A Day in the Life of a Lupie
October 1, 2015 No Comments » Writing Advice A.L. Mabry

So, I am writing this post today. In August. It’s the second week of school and already chaotic. Of course, by the time you read this it will be October. So, it’s now for me now but will be in the past for you now. Are you confused yet? Good, because I want you to have an authentic mental experience here today.

I know life as a parent is stressful and at times, just life in general in stressful. Throw in high schoolers, one with special needs, a college student and three cats then we have a circus. And the icing? I have lupus and fibro. Some days suck before they even start.

I should preempt this by telling you: I only slept about two hours the night before this day. I was diagnosed last year with lupus and fibromyalgia, these seem to come with an abundant dose of insomnia. I tossed and turned until about 5 am and slipped into dreamland just as my husband was crawling out of bed for work. And of course, I should have been getting up as well.

At 6:55 my phone jingles at me incessantly and I answer only to realize it is my 18-year-old calling. From downstairs.

“Ma, did you already wake up the other kids and take them to school?”

“Yes… wait… what? Oh, shit!” I jump out of bed as I realize first bell rings in five minutes and no one is awake. Ok, “jump out of bed” is not quite accurate. I sort of… tumbled and cursed my way out of bed. But I digress.

I trip my way through the laundry piles of my teenage daughter’s room and shake her awake before stumbling down the stairs to wake up my other teenage son. Only I realize he is awake. And puking. Oh, Monday, why dost thou hate me so.

So, I finally get the girl out the door and off to school. I figure I will get home, tend to my puker and try to get some writing done.

<Insert family drama culminating with a Skype session with my mother. >

As my morning settles down I get a text from my husband asking me to please bring him lunch. It is at this point I remember my oldest has a college entrance interview at 12:30. It would be close, but I could make it.

So, I throw on some clothes (because I will shoot back home to fancy up for the college interview) and run some lunch to my hard working husband.

As I am dropping off lunch in the parking lot of my husband’s job, because I forgot he said to meet him at the park, my son calls to remind me of the interview that is not at 12:30, but 12:00. Oh gosh!

So, I rush back home and scoop up my son and race to get him to the interview on time. (So, much for changing… or even brushing my hair.) I tell him to call me when he is almost done so I can go home and get a few things done.

As I am heading back towards home my daughter calls. She has an emergency of the feminine nature and needs me to bring her… stuff. Sigh, I swing by the house to grab the stuff for her and as I am backing out of my driveway my stupid phone rings. It is my oldest letting me know that he is finished and ready to be picked up. And reminds me I have an interview there at 1:30. I beg him to wait for me to run to his sister and see if he can bump up our meeting so I don’t have an hour hanging in between.

I run to the high school and give her the supplies and something for pain and head back to my oldest son. It is at this point I realize I never changed or even brushed my hair.

We have a nice entrance interview with a counselor and then we head over to another counselor to finish registration and start picking classes. Even with fatigue tugging at me I am trying to ask ever question and make sure he understands everything. The meeting takes far longer than I anticipated and by the time we leave I have to rush back to the high school to pick up my daughter.

She is chattering her head off as we leave the car loop, already trying to talk me into playing social taxi once we get home. Ha. Then I realize I never took anything out for dinner since I have been running all day. So, a trip to the grocery store. I grab a quick, easy dinner and head home.

I decide to take it easy for the rest of the day as if I have a choice. I am almost out of spoons. And around 4:00 my husband requests some homemade zucchini fries with dinner. A woman’s work is never done. Lupus and fibro be damned.

Where the hell are my bon bons? Someone said there would be bon bons.
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Until next time, scribe happy and stay sassy!
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A.L. Mabry A.L. Mabry is an Executive Editor for Our Write Side. As an author, she enjoys writing in all genres and forms, even grocery lists. She is an artist and Wiccan who has an obsessive love of vampires, kilts, and blue butterflies. She is passionate about many topics and her posts are often laced with the snarky sense of humor one acquires from raising five teenagers, all at once. In her downtime, she can be found with her loving husband, Shawn and their children. She maintains her shreds of sanity with yoga, tea, and cats.

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