You know.  The sort where motivation is running low, drama is running high, and I am in a holding pattern.  (I hate holding patterns.)  The sort where I wonder why I went to law school, what makes me think I can write a decent novel, anyway, and what was I thinking quitting a job in the worst economy for lawyers ever?

These are the days when it would be best if I just hid in a closet or something.  (Except we don’t have a closet.)  They’re the days when I won’t let myself work on anything important or make big decisions.

But I was treated to nice lunch and had my favorite sandwich in the world.  It involved *much* placation of Miss P, and taking her to the tiniest restaurant bathroom ever (you have to walk through the kitchen to get to it, and it really is the size of an airplane lavatory – hard enough by oneself, and challenging with a kid).   Afterward, we walked seven blocks to look at koi, then back home for our “siesta” (since she won’t nap, it’s the next best thing).  On the return trip, we were passed by my ex-boss and his investment guy (also known as the man with the second worst toupee ever).  I’d been feeling sorry for the ex-boss for losing so many cases recently – but when the investment guy is around, it means he’s flush.  I’m not feeling too badly for him.

It also reminded me that quitting was a right call.  It was a sitcom just begging to be written.

So, currently, it’s 6:30.  M is asleep.  I’ve put P down for the night.  (We’ll see how that goes – it’s very early, but I’m trying to push her schedule to something more like a standard work schedule and she is still short sleep from the weekend.)  It’d be lovely to have an easy night, but you know?  It’s one of those days.  We’ll see.

UPDATE: P was asleep by 7:30.  Now, if she’ll just stay that way until tomorrow morning, I’ll be golden.