Thursday, February 16, 2006

A Savage Indictment of Bourgeois Society

The latest on what's been happening at Casa de Blah:

Miraculously, no one has gotten sick in the past week or so. However, Viva had an unpleasant accident at school yesterday morning, resulting in a gash on her upper lip and a chipped front tooth. Despite this happening in the morning, no one called home about it, and when I picked her up at 4:30 pm, no one mentioned the chipped tooth. They just said she had hurt her lip, and Viva puckered up slightly for me to see the cut. I figured accidents happen: no harm, no foul.

However, once we got home, we sat down to talk, and I was gazing upon her cuteness in the obsessive manner that I do, and suddenly with a sickening lurch of my stomach, I realized part of her tooth was missing. Here are the components of my horror: (1) her tooth is broken; (2) nobody told me; (3) her father is going to lose his mind with rage.

I think losing his mind with rage is really an understatement. He called our attorney. We had long discussions last night and this morning about whether we should pull her out of this preschool. There have been other issues with the preschool where we feel we are paying a premium for subpar service, but this? Straw, meet back of camel. What it boils down to is, we all know accidents happen and the teachers can't keep their eyes on each kid every single second. But when there is bleeding, and a facial injury, and a disfigurement (admittedly fixable), it seems a phone call should be made. And indeed, it is allegedly school policy to call a parent or guardian when there is a facial/head injury, however slight. We were also supposed to receive a report on the injury, which we did not until we were in the principal's office this morning.

So, bad night last night. For the time being, we have decided to have Viva finish out the school year and then look into moving her somewhere else in August/September. In short, I am in preschool quest mode once more. Oh, the humanity!

We are stretched kind of thin these days. I am finally making some money, which I haven't been paid yet (but my client is so cool that he e-mailed me to remind me to invoice him). I applied for another freelance position this morning. We'll see what happens.

Sweet William and I have been having a stressful time lately -- all the usual "we need more time together, how can we make it happen?" discussions. The good news is, we still like each other and we do actually want to spend time together. Things are not so bad. We just have to figure out how to make time for each other, just like other parents, and be creative in how we do so.

Beyond sick of our apartment. We wanted to move March 1st but haven't found a place yet. Very bummed out, but then this morning, I was talking to Lola (my sister) and she mentioned that her neighbors are moving May 1st and want to rent out their house. Keep your fingers crossed! She's giving me their number today.

The house is a 2 bedroom, 2 bath, completedly renovated with central air and heat, all major appliances, a garage, an office, beautiful hardwood floors, and a huge backyard. It's in a great location, in terms of it being pretty close to everything we like, but it's more "neighborhoody" than where we currently are and yet it's in the city. Have I already mentioned keeping your fingers crossed?

I have a freelance project due tomorrow. Waiting to hear back on another consulting opportunity (see "Finances").

Creative Expression
I haven't been writing much this week, but because I have the sweetest husband in the world, I got a brand-new laptop for Valentine's Day, and he had someone who shall remain nameless load about $5,000 worth of graphics programs on it (for FREE!). So hear me now: I will slowly be teaching myself some graphic and Web design. Be patient, Internets! I am but a novice, and this blog will no doubt be my guinea pig. (Squeak!)

For now, though, I must go rescue Viva's mattress cover from the dryer, and tidy up the sty that is our apartment before she comes home and makes a complete mess of it once more. Don't ask me why. It is a compulsion. Peace out!

Note: The title of this post is borrowed from a review of Herman Hesse's Steppenwolf, for all your literary types.

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