Party Planning, Summer Fun and A Possible Sabbatical

So it seems that July and August always end up being our busiest months of the year, especially since Jackson and the group of other August 06 babies were born, and this year is no exception. LOTS of fun stuff going on, none that we would want to skip or forego, but the days run sprints past us and are gone before we know it. Blink twice and that fucking snow will be back.

This week we are planning Jackson's 2nd birthday party, slated for August 10th. Before that ever happens, we have a slew of play dates and family stuff planned, not to mention the major, MAJOR work that our yard needs before we can even consider having a party here. It's been a summer of landscaping slacking around here and now we'll pay the price. Sigh. Inside needs some help, too - as will I with the task of talking Greg into finishing some trim projects before the party rolls around. After all, I'm pretty sure the trim that's still not up is the SAME trim that "still wasn't up" LAST year for Jackson's party. Double sigh.

Also, Samantha starts preschool just after Labor Day, and some major daily schedule adjustments are in order which need to take place gradually, and starting soon! We are excited (despite our disappointment at the morning class being full, and having to put her in the afternoon class) and we hope she will love every second. We are more excited for next year when school is, well, FREE - because preschool, in case you were wondering, is NOT.

So, yard work, house work, play dates, family events, revamp of daily life, prepping for party and preschool, oh, and trying to get some more weight off before the snow flies - all these things are leading me towards another event - Internet sabbatical.

I know, I know, if only I'll just budget my time online, or set me a nifty timer, or give myself a guideline of sorts, this wouldn't be necessary, right? Might be true. But I guess "necessary" is a relative term. Can I have an internal struggle every day, and talk myself into only spending 20 minutes online, and battle it while I try to get everything done? Sure. Maybe. But what I KNOW is that I'm spending more time online than I'd like to admit, and it's been going on for longer than I'd like to admit. Greg jokingly calls me a junkie, but I'm pretty sure his joke is rooted in truth (as most are, but that's another topic). So telling me to just check in once a day is vaguely equivalent to telling the drunk to stop at the bar after work but just have one drink, or telling the meth head to walk by the crank house, and maybe stop in, but just shoot one spoonful. Not gonna happen. It just never does. If it was under control it wouldn't be a problem to begin with, would it? Right.

It's like this (This is not today, or any day, but it is more accurately similar to every day, if you get my drift):

Time to get busy around here. But first, I'll check email "real quick". Just take a sec.

14 crap emails, and one email requiring action - a PM on one of my message boards...better check that.......oh, yeah, uh-huh, better reply to that...and since I'm on the board already, better just check the board and make sure nothing "hot" is going on, right? Right? Just take a sec...{15 minutes while I read, reply to only the "essential" threads}...OK, somebody on here reminded me of something I wanted to post on a different board, so I'd better check in there, too...{15 minutes doing just that, and posting whatever and then refreshing two or three times waiting for a response}....ok, seriously gotta get busy....

...Op! New email (says the tweet from my PC speaker)...oh, so-and-so found me on Facebook...better confirm that....and oh, look who is on THEIR friends list...oh, need to add that person...I met her thru my sis, and that reminds me that sis messaged me on Myspace, so I'd better check in there, too, and answer that....{15 minutes on Myspace, reading bulletins that will 'just take a sec' and looking at pics of my niece, nephew and super cute new grand-nephew}...

...Op! Now it's after noon, so the hometown newspaper has updated their obits, so I'd better check in and make sure nobody died that I didn't know about...remember when Tom's dad died and you missed it altogether, geez, that sucked...so yeah, check that...oh, and what's this local news story....that guy used to work with me at where ever...

Alright, seriously. Time to get...'tweet!'...another email...South Beach board...have to click, don't I?...oh, yeah, Casey checking in, Melinda checking in, so nice of them to check on me, better reply quick, it'd be rude not to, right? {15 minutes reading and posting on SB board}...oh, I forgot to track my food and exercise in MY journal, better do that...oh, and I still need to print out that recipe Deb sent me...better print that out...where's that link?....

And on, and on, and on...

I can't be the only one with this problem. I just can't be. I wonder if there is an online support group for Internet junkies? And would that be like holding an AA meeting in at Coyote Ugly? Or like holding an OA meeting at the Hostess factory? Prolly. Still...I'll be damned if there isn't one. Swear to god: http://www.netaddiction.com/default.aspx They offer online counseling, and - did I call it? - a message board for support. Quite possibly the funniest goddamned thing I have ever seen. Am I the only one who finds this freaking hilarious? Hey, Mr. Alcoholic - here, have some vodka, but pay to drink it out of OUR cup - that'll help you get clean and sober!

Anyway. So, it may just be that in the days to come, for a week or two or three, Cathy may just fall out of cyberspace. But worry not - it's only because my house, my yard, my family and my sanity need me to. You know I'll be back, and I know I'll be back. So if you suddenly don't see me for a while, fear not. I'll be back as soon as I can get organized...get my ducks in a row...get my poop in a group...you get the picture...right now I have to get all this down on paper, this monstrous list of things we need to get accomplished...

But first I have to check my email. Just take a sec.