Entropy

I’m sitting here, before the computer, trying not to panic. I just sent a ton of e-mail notices to friends, coworkers, parents of soccer players, the middle school music boosters, and possibly people I don’t even know—I lost track in my typing frenzy. I’m counting on the fact that all recipients are on the same page…that I have no changes to make. I’m working on the most important item in my life…my calendar.

As of this moment, I know who’s going where and with whom for the next week—no small feat at our house. I belong to multiple carpools—any small change and entropy becomes reality. I’m not fond of entropy…I’d prefer it attack someone else’s life. Of course, not anyone reading this—I only wish calm waters for you and possibly an awesome massage.

Have you noticed I have a slight fixation regarding massages? Doesn’t that reinforce the tension in my life, the terrible pressure placed on me by my calendar? Too dramatic? Ok, I’ll tone it down a bit. Gosh, it would be really nice if someone would gently rub the tension from my shoulders.