I am working from home today. Somebody has to stay home with the Cuteness we call Boy Terror, and today it's my turn.
I really, truly thought that I would be able to write lesson plans, get course outlines ready, and all that stuff from the comfort of my basement. I pictured Boy Terror building with blocks near my feet. A steaming cup of coffee would be sitting on the shelf beside me. The words would flow, the work would be done, and I would have time for a quiet nap before Girl Terror and Hubby got home. The cats would be curled up, next to the fire....oh wait. I don't have a fireplace. Anyway. You get the picture. Autumn bliss and all that.
The reality? I'm getting a cold. So I'm all...snotty, and foggy. The words are not flowing. Boy Terror is indeed playing beside me. And he's keeping up a running commentary. "Here's the marble. This one has red on it. See? See, Mummy? Isn't it pretty? I think I'll put it over here, next to the yellow one. See? See Mummy? The yellow and the red are together...." and on and on. I've gotten the marbles down. I've put the Superman cape on. I've coloured. I can't find the water markers, so I had to put the drawing mat away, and discuss all the places the markers might be.
The cats are not cooperating, either. They aren't napping. They are running up the stairs, down the stairs, round the room, and up again. It's a vicious game of kitty tag, and I seem to be a "safety zone" of some sort. My papers help them slide nicely into the safety of the computer keyboard.
Of course, it doesn't help that the internet is right there, teasing me. What am I missing on facebook? Has anybody updated their blog in the last 3 minutes? Is the weather changing while I'm not watching?
So far, I've written half a lesson plan, a really crappy course outline that makes me sound like a cranky old lady, and this blog entry. If only I could find a way to get paid for this, it would all work out.