Gnomes in Charge of Time Management

www.tumbleweedchaser.blogspot.com

Clock from Shellyka

In a world where much smarter brains than mine reside, there are lots of theories about time. Quantum Theory. String Theory. Etc., etc. I don't pretend to get any of it. However, I do have my own theory about time. And here it is:

Gnomes live in my clocks. I'm sure they're quite happy and comfortable there but they are very, very naughty. Just when I think I'm going to have time to do something, they move the hands of the clock and speed up time so I have no time at all to do anything of any lasting importance. They also work in reverse, slowing the clock down, usually during Sunday School and meetings at work.

I know I'm not alone in this problem. Lots of people I know also say they don't have time to do the things they want to do. They should check their clocks for gnomes, also.

Work gets more than its share of time, so I believe that the gnomes in the hospital clocks are especially good at what they do.Taking a day off doesn't help - it only makes the day I go back worse and I have less time than before. Having watched other Chief Nursing Officers I've worked under scramble with their calendars I erroneously thought that I'd be better than that. I'd be able to control my calendar. In the immortal words of my daughter:

hahahahahahahahahahahaha........

That calendar controls me. Gnomes must really hate Chief Nursing Officers.

I have the blessing and the curse of being interested in lots of  (maybe too many?) things but there isn't enough time to pursue them with any success. For instance:

• I gave myself until June (yes, this past June) to finish my Dad's book. I'm on Chapter 2. 

• We have this wild hair to visit France and hike the village-to-village walking trails in two years which has prompted me to want to learn conversational French. So far, I can say: "Comment vas tu?" (How are you?) and "Ou sont les toilettes?" (Where is the restroom?) 

• I have this wonderful Nikon D5000 camera, which every now and then I take a really good picture with, but I know it will do more. I have the books. I have Photoshop. I have the subscription to the website. I just don't have the time. 

• I have some really nice piano solo music written. It just takes time to get it recorded and published.

• There are so many books and so little time. Currently I'm reading The Help (I know, I know - everybody else has already read it, but remember that I have a Gnome Infestation and I don't have any time!). Dreams of My Russian Summers by Andrei Malkine is coming up next. The title sounded like a great book to read during the summer but, at the rate I'm going, it may be fall before I get to it. 
• And, of course, where it really gets annoying is that there is never, never, never enough time for this:

My next task after posting this will be to search for a good Gnome Removal Company.

If I can find time.

Cool Mom

I'm a Cool Mom. No doubt about it. In fact, I might even be Cool Mom of the Year, possibly.


 And here's why.

For those of you who are Not Cool (unlike me), that's ZOO-MEZE. A self-described "mall-based, specialty apparel store which currently caters to teenagers and young adults". 

You will notice that the store does not promote itself as a retail establishment which "currently caters to Cool Moms". No matter. We are there anyway. 

We are not put off by the punkish young male "store clerk" wearing a muscle shirt and sporting pierced lips and tattoos on every observable inch of skin.

We shrug off the mind-numbing, eardrum shattering array of rap and hip-hop and the store owner's tolerance of allowing the employees to play their ipod selections of Jay-Z, Big Sean, and L.E.P. Bogus Boys ad nauseum. Child's play .Our generation invented rebellious music so don't be a troll and keep it legit, duuuuude.


Because we have ultimate Cool Mom Willpower, we are not influenced in the least when said "store clerk" tenaciously tries to convince Cool Mom's Son that he should buy the Obey Propaganda t-shirt with the picture of the oriental girl holding a military rifle on the front. I said No. No means No. Go shuffle your ipod.

(Oh, sorry Mr. Zumiez "store clerk" - yes, tenaciously is a big word isn't it? I would suggest a dictionary but that might be a waste of time so I will describe it for you here. It means Never Give Up. Never Surrender. It could be used to describe both of us, now couldn't it?)


And, yes, when the tattooed, pierced "store clerk" rattles off a string of obscenities to three 11 year old boys buying "I Love Boobies" plastic bracelets (a blog for another day), I will threaten to wash your mouth out with soap. Irish Spring soap. Ask Katie whether or not I'll actually follow through.


You'll find other Cool Moms like me in Zumiez. We are the moms that refuse to send our teenagers in unsupervised. We are the moms that are not afraid to say "put that back you're not wearing it anywhere anytime anyplace and don't argue with me because I have Irish Spring and I'm not afraid to use it and don't give me that look I invented that look." 


You'll know us when you see us. We're the ones who nonchalantly follow the teenager in and try to look casual, as if we're not secretly staring in shocked awe at those gosh-awful piercings and tattoos and not made in the least way uncomfortable by Mr. Big Sean and his beatboxing. We cast each other knowing glances as we pass between the skateboards and the tank tops, sending each other the Cool Mom Gang Sign that entails an intricate mix of eye-rolling, head nodding, and, in desperate situations, a wink which says "hang in there it's just a phase".


You'll find us in other stores, too, like Hot Topic, Aeropostale, and Hollister (oh, don't get me started). We're the last defense against money-grubbing "entrepeneurs" who want to sell our children garbage because it's what they say is in fashion. Because, you see, the people that market their crude, coarse, and inappropriate apparel and accessories to my teenager forget one very important fact.


I'm the one with the money.


And it's locked up safe and sound in my Cool Mom purse.