Woke up late, apparently with zero motivation to even try to find some motivation at all. And usually that would not be a problem, but today I woke up next to a woman who is ready to tackle a new-found perspective on homebodying and nesting, which apparently includes cleaning up this mess we worked so hard to make for the past month and then like, do stuff or something. Laura is excited to be home, in other words.
After a few meager attempts at organizing the new toy-load for processing and subject distribution throughout the house, Yuula's pleading for some sledding action grew louder from the background, which at first was dismissed in caution of her newly broken fever, but became insistent and isn't this supposed to be a day of celebration anyhow? I made the bold statement "We Are Going Sledding!" seemed to be met with mixed emotion. Joy from the little girl, begrudging acceptance from the big one. Sledding it was.
Now to find a hill.
Our fallback is always Dansbury, where the sunken soccer field creates quite the drop and it's fairly easy access, if you park wisely, which we did not. And the rising temperature was quickly creating and icewater like substance directly below the surface that I could tell was not going to lend itself well to the weight we were about to impose upon it.
I dragged Yuula across the field to the base of the great hill, of which she wanted to scale on her own, so I obliged to a certain degree, probably further than I should have. But she reached the top, with minimal assistance and then the real disappointment began.
After loading her into position and preparing to take my position in the rear of the vehicle, she began to protest and in quite a calm manner announced she would not be riding the sled anymore today. Not out of fear or out of exhaustion, but more out of indifference. So there it was. The time it took suiting up, the ride down the hill and into town, the second suiting up in the parking lot, and the journey to the very peak of excitement, all to bail at the last minute and leave me standing in the snow, wet and cold and still lacking any motivation today to fight it.
So we went home.
Then the day got worse when Judee disappeared.
Don't fret. She's back, but for a good 30 minutes of braving the elements and by braving I mean sliding all over the newly formed icy roadways caused by the perfect combination of warm sun during the day melting the snow then re-freezing the shit out it as the sun goes down... more than a few times I had to sit back and hope the skid would deliver me safely. But finally spotting the little turd in the Buttermilks backyard, and then chasing her home with the car, beeping my horn at her hoping she would int turn interpret that as me conveying my inability to properly steer the van out of her general direction so it might not be a good idea to stand in front of me like a literal dog-in-headlights. Aye.
I went back inside to see that yet another team I was rooting for had lost in the playoffs. They wouldn't be the last. I am 0 for 4.
But how bad could a day really be when this is served up to you as you get within 4 episodes of finally closing the book on Weeds.