But, as is my wont (and has been since the college days), when the stress level rises, and there is something that Definitely Needs To Be Done Yesterday, my system goes into Tilt Mode, and I do stuff like re-arrange my cupboards, and wash my floors. So now I have bright shiny clean floors that you could eat off of, but I still haven't found my birth certificate, which needs to be sent off as part of the Passport Renewal.
Nothing like a little car crash to shut down the Civilized World.
A tanker overturned on the 101 this afternoon, and the entire Bay Area went into gridlock. Or so it seemed. I was taking the kids home from Kung Fu, and the main drag was a parking lot. What the...? Of course, I passed the point of no return (should I pull out onto El Camino? Should I turn around, and take the back way through the hills to get home? Oh, thanks for letting me into the gridlock!) when I finally heard on the radio what was the cause of the hold-up. And then it took me 20 minutes to go a mile to the nearest place that I could get off the main drag.
Where I promptly pulled into a Walgreens, and had passport photos taken of Skip and I.
yes, I am on the ball.
I have the passport paperwork spread all across the kitchen table.
Really, I should go find my birth certificate. I wish I knew what Ken did with it when we renewed our passports 5 years ago... but he's stuck in traffic, trying to get home from work, along with a hundred and eleven thousand and two of his closest friends.
Can I just forget about going to France, and just knit something? This is just too much stress for my little brain.
And Kelly's teacher just emailed me about sewing costumes for 21 class puppets... a job that I said, back in September, would be a piece of cake. And when does she need these costumes? Why on March 24th... when we'll be in France.... (if I ever find my birth certificate, and get my passport renewed.. and if our travel agent can even find us five tickets on the same flight there and back. Eek. Too. Much. Stress)
Oh, and because everything can't go smoothly...
I got a midterm printout from Skip's school.
The school doesn't send out midterm printouts... unless YOUR CHILD IS FAILING A CLASS...
Yes. Goodbye Honor Roll of the First Trimester.
Hello, life of juvenile delinquency and crime.
I immediately freaked out all over him. It wasn't pretty. And then I emailed the teacher to find out what was up with that.
Turns out that in this class.... (an elective, so fortunately it's half over, and cross your fingers so he doesn't have to take it again!)... 70.9% gets you a C-minus.
Hmm. Back in the day (you know, when we walked uphill in the snow to school, and then uphill through the mud and hurricanes home every day... and you had to write your own textbooks, because nobody knew anything), if I got a 70% grade, I'd be bringing home a nice shiny B for that effort. The C-minus grade was reserved for the kids that really had failed the class, but the teacher didn't want to see them again, so gave them the booby-prize mark that said "Really, you know nothing, but I'm passing you so you'll be someone else's problem".
I guess that's inflation for you.
When I found out that little tidbit, I told Skip that I'd be happy if he just made it through this class ALIVE. The 70.9% mark is a result of not handing in 3 of 17 homework assignments, two of which he was absent for. And here I had nightmares that he was mouthing off in class, or lighting fire to his notebook, or thumbing his nose at authority and not handing in ANY of his work.
But now, if you'll excuse me, I have to save this, and then run around the house with my hands waving in the air, screaming "I'll never get to France, I'll never get to France"
And then get up in 5 hours to get Skip ready so Ken can take him to Early Period, so he can rehearse for the Jazz Festival this weekend.