A Game of Life(time)
No, like, a real apple. Macoun. Bought at the farmer's market. It is the perfect height. Since I am in union square and not north brooklyn, I doubt anyone with a lomo is going to stop and snap a photo of the delicious irony.
Let me tell you about my life lately.
My son got into a free gifted and talented school--one of the best in the country. It is Across the River.
Because I couldn't bear to see another child cry upon separation, I am putting my daughter through a pre-pre-pre-k Gradual Separation program, which is also Across the River.
If you add in gymnastics, one after school, and some music classes, you can easily imagine the Lifetime movie my life has become. Pickups, drop offs, playmates, scheduling, menus, lunches...all which would be completely impossible without our awesome babysitter. All of which also costs a bizzatload of money.
I want you to picture the freeze-frame that comes to your mind first and hold it there: frazzled b-rated actress with highlighted honey blond hair digging frantically through a giant purse, coffee nearby, keys dangling precariously out of her other hand, while one or more small children do adorably horrible things in the background.
Unlike the Lifetime character, I am of course swearing like a sailor and have several pieces of expensive electronic equipment in my backpack that are supposed to help me write. Like this ipad2. And a bag for the farmer's market, for holding produce. Like the apple currently supporting my Ipad2.
"What do you want to be when you grow up?" my son asked me on this morning's commute.
"A writer," I answered honestly. "Someday, I'd like to be a writer."