These are the things that need doing:
1. I'm dropping a night a week at work. The cash will be missed, but the house constantly teeters on the edge of chaos, The Pman can't read, I do laundry on a "who needs underwear first?" basis, I'm not writing enough, I get sick now (strep throat and a cold at the same time last week. It was totes awesome.), the dog has taken to peeing in the house sometimes, I get maybe 5 hours of sleep a night because my sleep schedule is screwed, and I tried to pour food for the cats the other night from a box of Triscuits.
2. We've got to pick a school for the Peanut to attend next year. We've toured most of the elementary schools in the city, interviewed principals and guidance councilors, gone through their trash at night when the schools are closed, and we've narrowed it to two choices. The lucky winner will receive a rose upon the evening of our decision. Mostly, it's about feel. My wife asked all the good "I'm a professional educator" questions, I've got an email to write to another principal, and then we'll know. Overall, we've been generally impressed with the quality of the schools. Lots of music and art, new Macs, and special lamination services for those families who are inflicted with paper plate heads.
3. The yard is all savannah height grass and dog poop. I will rent a flame thrower.
4. The Avengers.
5. We've got a ballet recital to attend in a few weeks and I look like a bad sausage when I'm in my leotard. My wife and I just sent away for P90. Not P90X. We're not ready for something that high up in the alphabet yet. I think we got P90 O. For Owie.
I've been trying to run a few miles 3 times a week after work, but I work on my feet all day. In a bakery. So after carb loading and working standing up all day, my fat ass is pretty much like "Uh no. We won't have any of that."
6. We're buying camping equipment. We've already booked a couple camp sights. I was not a big fan of camping as a kid, but I figured I should give a try. It's a pretty cheap way to get the kids out of the city for the summer and my wife promised me I'd get a chance to do it in a tent. Or she will promise me once she reads this. Or maybe she won't. Either way, I'm committed.
Alright. That's it. Peace out.