Good Intentions Paving, Inc.

So I had the day off today. A real day, with no associated work-guilt. You know, the guilt that seeps into your pores when you take a sick day. Those thoughts of "did I remember to tell XYZ about ABC?" And "what if a board member or the superintendent needs me?" And "how will my office survive without me?"

No, today was a glorious holiday that my son and my husband did not share. All about me. Me, myself and I.

What to do? Big plans were crafted, dreamed about, the stuff of freedom and me-dom. My day would be full of catching up on my DVRd shows, taking a well-deserved nap, playing with my puppy, Sadie, and finally taking some time to moisturize deeply. And, if I felt like giving a nod to the household duties, I'd unload the dishwasher and spray some lemon-scented Pledge near the front door to give the boys the illusion that I had scrubbed and toiled over the furniture and fixtures all day long. It would be a great day.

Then comes my reality. It rained all day, which would normally be a fantastic bonus for me. Love, love, LOVE the rain. We just don't get much of it in San Diego. But when you add a rainy, stormy day to a 10-month-old rescued puppy who's not yet fully housebroken, you get calamity central. With a lot of cursing and gnashing of teeth.

So, already spending the day with paper towels in hand and a scowl on my face, I faced my "other" list of things to do. And four loads of laundry, two stripped and made beds, one organized pantry, one scrubbed refrigerator, umpteen polished tables, seven ironed shirts and some glistening countertops later, I sat down. And I caught up on all of 30 minutes of "Lost." (Darn it all, I'm still about three shows behind!)

Now, what would today have been like if the characters had changed? If I was at work and the hubby were home? Do I really have to answer that?

One of these days, I'm going to have a me day. But I think I'm going to do it outside the house. In a hotel. Far away from home.

Who am I kidding? I wouldn't know what to do with that freedom. I'd probably make lists of things I need to do once I got back home, sent 642 work e-mails and worked on my son's college applications. He'll need them in a decade.