Because my life is like that, my weekdays and weekends are completely reversed in terms of busy.  On the weekdays, I wake up in order to have breakfast with J, and then immediately head back to bed, meaning the first thing I do every day is… take a nap.  The cats are extremely accommodating to this plan- when I woke up (the second time) this morning, one cat was wedged behind my knees and the other curled tight into my chest.  This particular arrangement effectively TRAPPED me in the bed (you guys, those cats are heavy), so I just fell asleep for longer.  I wish I could blame all this extra sleeping on baby (and he/she is partially responsible, I didn’t sleep nearly as much before I got pregnant), but I have to admit, in the spirit of blog honesty, that I’m just that fucking lazy.

After the sleeping, there is the Internetting, and the catching up on blogs, and the writing of my own posts, if I have been struck with inspiration.  There is also some limited TV watching, although I heard this sort of thing rots your brain.  I catch up on the house chores and hit yoga in the late afternoon, but generally my week days are soft and slow and easy, and I like to think of this as the calm before the storm.

I actually really enjoy this easy schedule- I get to do all the things I am good at (bill paying, grocery shopping, dish washing, sleeping, eating) without all of the things I’ve become increasingly bad at (putting on pants and showering, most notably).  And I have no doubts that soon enough I’ll dream of this time, with the quiet, and the lots of sleep, and whatever else small people rob you of in their early days.

But that’s not where I’m going with this.  So, my weekdays, while J is at work, are easy and relatively boring (not to me, in particular, but in terms of actual items to be accomplished, I could see how someone, out there in Internet land, might find my day boring), and my weekends, they are JAM PACKED.

Everything I want J to do with me has to get stuffed into those two days, and it’s almost laughable, how busy my weekends are, compared to the weekdays, whereas everyone else on the planet has the reverse schedule.

This weekend, for example, we are dropping J’s car off for maintenance, and then we are headed to Costa Mesa for an afternoon of consumerism.  Did you know that in the depths of Orange County, there is a cloth diapering STORE?  I thought I’d died and gone to heaven when I found out about this place because, I, dear Internet, am not the biggest fan of online shopping for an item I don’t know much about.

For example- I have no problem buying books online, because I can generally figure out what shape, size, and general appearance I can expect a book to have.  No book is going to arrive on my doorstep and proceed to shock me with its dimensions.  Other objects, not so much.  Three years ago, I was looking for a lamp.  A modern, slim, attractive lamp that I could place on my beside table for nightly reading, so that I wouldn’t have to exit the bed to turn it off when I so desired.  And so I turned to the internet, and its vast array of lamp sellers, and I pored over picture after picture after picture.  Here’s the thing, lamp sellers- place and object near your lamp for REFERENCE.  A million pictures of lamps, a no real way to know what size it actually is, like is it going to be a dwarf lamp, with a bulb that’s shaped like a candle flame and emits just about the same amount of light?  Or is it going to be a giant honking lamp with a base the size of a dinner plate?  I know, I know, that’s why they include measurements.

Look, I don’t like to feed into boy/girl stereotypes, but sometimes, in some cases, there exists a grain of truth in those stereotypes, and the one about girls having no mental concept of spatial relations totally holds true for me (I know, you are a whiz at mental spatial relations, but this post isn’t about you).  I squeaked by in both geometry and trigonometry in high-school, and college level physics was by far the hardest class I ever had to complete, and in that I am including Advanced Physical Chemistry (which by the way, I found FASCINATING, so there you have my nerd bonafides).  So those measurements they include in product descriptions?  Those mean DICK ALL to me.  I could walk around my house holding a tape measure for all of eternity, I still wouldn’t be able to determine what the size of that fucking lamp is in relation to my bedside table.  Which is why, three years ago, I ended up with a lamp that would have been better suited for a dollhouse, but by the time the lamp arrived, I couldn’t even bear to start looking at alternatives, and so.  Wee bedside lamp it is.

Before I took that giant detour into lamp purchasing (which I included as an illustrative example), I was telling you that we were going to a cloth diapering store, and I was excited about this.  Because- touching!  Feeling!  Observing items in relationship to one another!  I can read message boards all live long day, but the difference between pre-folds and inserts and all in one’s will forever be a mystery to me without actual tactile confirmation.  Once I’ve done all the touching I want to, I’m more than happy to order the whole mess via Amazon.  I suspect this reading about without seeing the actual product is what has kept me from ordering a single diaper related item, even though I have been gorging myself on diapering forums and have been firmly decided on cloth diapering since, oh, I don’t know, the dawn of time.

The same sort of BUT WHAT DOES IT FEEEEL LIKE indecision plagues me with respect to all sorts of internet purchases: clothes, handbags, and basically anything I haven’t previously seen with my own two eyes.  This is the sort of problem that leads to J and I driving to Santa Monica on a Saturday in order to see a rug at West Elm we ended up having to order on the internet ANYWAYS.

Since we will be in Costa Mesa touching baby diapers (scroll back four paragraphs if you’ve lost the string) anyways, we figured we might as well hit the mecca of all Southern Californian consumerism, South Coast Plaza.  I need maternity pants that make up for the fact that my ass is as flat as a pancake (seriously, you could IRON on my ass), and have some staying-up mechanism other than “assume ass is round enough to hold things up in general”.  We will also go to Sephora, in guise of me just wanting to “look” but in reality because J needs more hair product, and I think likes Sephora as much as I do, even if she does roll her eyes when we walk past.

Then we’ll head back to Long Beach, and by then I am sure some evening plan will have materialized, and just like that, my Saturday has comprised at least three more tasks than my average weekday.  I won’t even get into Sunday.

What are you doing this weekend?

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