I blogged about my hellish commute on Friday afternoon. Turns out it was because someone glued two liquid filled bottles on to the median strip and despite a few hundred thousand commuters in and out of the tunnel and cameras up the yin yang, NO ONE SAW A GODDAM THING.

Great.

Jimminy Flapjack.

Also: mother fucker.

So due to some horrific traffic in the Lincoln Tunnel ("Police activity” was the official reason but the police that I saw were just standing around in the middle of the highway - not too active) I was in the tunnel for over an hour, and commuting 14 miles took me over 90 minutes. I left at 4, and didn’t get home until after 6. WOW did that suck.

So there were no sloppy joes, no family dinner. I made festive sabbath peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and we sang songs and danced in the kitchen. Baba O’Riley is now a pre-toddler, and NOT in the infant room (OMG STOP with the growing up!). After the boys went to bed, we had sushi together and drank wine. Not at all what I planned but still pretty great.

The weekend was huge - we went to a free concert in Manhattan to see They Might be Giants - an hour, outside on a cool sunny day, surrounded by head banging 3 year olds? Awesome. 

Here are the thoughts in my brain for the next 350 seconds. Ready, set, Go:

I want more coffee but the coffee at my office blows and I’m too tired, cheap, and unmotivated to go spend another $1.25 at the coffee cart on the corner, even though Mohammed serves Starbucks. There’s something inherently amusing about that sentence.

I don’t drink enough water, and I can’t seem to motivate myself to do that, either.

Wow, am I ever BORING. I think this might be a profoundly strong argument that my brain needs more caffeine.

I’m tired. What else is new? Do I spend all my time being tired? Do I need to start being very strict about bedtime and head upstairs to unwind at 9:30?

I wonder about the long-term history of my online writing. My other blog is defunct, and I have probably about 3/4ths of everything I wrote there over an 8 year period. But someday Freebird and Baba will probably stumble over this site and think to themselves, “Wow. Our Mom is boring.”

Look here, dudes. I still have the power to ground you. Don’t forget that.

I wonder if the degree of chaos in the environment around me between the election and the stock market makes me extra more weary, because I know looking at all the drama that I cannot nor do I wish to keep up. Let that be my new battle cry: I am not apathetic! I am EXHAUSTED!

You know, I am aware that there’s a certain amount of focus on the Swing States (do you picture married couples swapping partners? I do!) and pushes to volunteer to go to these states and Get Out the Vote, etc. I think if I were in one of those states, I’d want people to stay the hell off my lawn. But then, my ability to understand a voter who is at this time undecided is exceptionally weak.

Done!

Aside from not hugging the pole, and not putting your bags on the seat, if you are descending the stairs to a platform that serves more than one line of train, and there’s a train in the station, AND that train is NOT the one you want, this does NOT mean you should walk as slowly as possible, because the person behind you (namely: me) might want to catch that train, numnuts. The NY rule of “move as quickly as possible at all times” is always in effect. Even if it’s not your train in the station, it’s probably someone else’s. So move it. 

Votes for Obama could mean additional federal funding for scientific research into stem cells and cloning. The cloning part is key.

Because then I could clone myself twice. Morag #1 would be right where I am now, doing the professional thing.

Morag #2 would be running the other site, professionally bitching and actually DOING the ideas I have instead of desperately trying to remember them so I can do them when I have more time. But I don’t have more time. I have less time. Hence: cloning!

Morag #3 would be home, doing all the things that manage a home, including organizing, cleaning, and making a big ass pot of soup because it’s storming and awful outside and I’d love to have soup to come home to.

So vote Obama. It’s all about me.

I have one question as you ponder the $700 billion bailout:

Wasn’t giving large sums of money to people who have a history of making poor financial what got us here in the first place?

Hello? Hello? Anyone?

I used to say, even when folks were threatening to move to Canada during the Bush/Kerry race and the Bush/Gore race should they not get the outcome they wanted (and they didn’t), that the thing that would make me renounce my citizenship and head to another country would be if there were a constitutional amendment banning gay marriage. That would the most short sighted and harmful act the government and the populace could perpetrate (I am aware that folks don’t vote for amendments but they vote some bozos into office is my point) that would leave me with no desire to have a nationality in common with those who would outlaw gay marriage. I’d be outta here, taking my tax dollars with me.

The anti-gay-marriage amendment failed, and I’m still here.

But I’ll state for the record that the idea of a McCain/Palin victory scares the ever living shit out of me, because if McCain kicks the bucket and she’s president? Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. I will take my uterus and run for the border. And I’ll take my tax dollars with me.

I spend a lot of time thinking about what I have in common with those are are so very different from me, mostly because I tend to be very solipsistic, and need to be reminded of the need for more empathy. But the degree to which I differ in thought and values and morality and perspective and priorities from others is profoundly depressing. And the thought of Palin as president makes me physically ill.