why TL is mean
Miss Lincoln is in one of her moods. I call it The Procrastination Buster. Hold on tight, kids, this is going to hurt.
One thing you should know about Miss Lincoln if you don’t already is that she loves to see people busy. Marky used to make jokes about running and hiding when she got out her clipboard and colored pencils, but IT’S NO JOKE! You can prolly guess that she hasn’t been happy with my “progress” this summer, meaning, I guess, stuff I’ve got done. The thing she’s really mad about is how I’m making practically no progress on my summer book project. But, this is because 1) life’s too sad! and 2) I’ve got too much else to do!!
She’s been grumbling for a while now about “dealing with” my “procrastination.” OK, first, like I keep telling her, I’m not avoiding stuff, I just haven’t got to it yet. Second, she never deals with anything the way she and RP used to deal with things. She Moans at you, and Looks at you, and Talks to you, and then she gets all energetic and Makes You Do Stuff, lots of stuff, all at once.
Take today. We had to Get Up At A Reasonable Hour (read “before 6:30″) so there was time to do writing before taking the dogs to the park and being ready for the cable man to come at 8. Then, when he was here, in addition to me helping him and keeping the dog from attacking him and putting the air-conditioner back together after him, TL decides this is the day to bottle and re-brew the kombucha. She says I have to because it’s my project and my idea. This also entails making another fruit-fly trap. Later on there’s a transatlantic call booked, and then there’s three hours of lessons. Then it’s walk the dogs again.
before
But this is still not enough, oh no, because it’s only 6.00 and there’s hours of productivity left in the day. So TL decides it’s also the day to make the sourdough bread, which she also makes me do because I’m the one who’s in charge of the sourdough starter. And then, at 7.00, she makes me go out in the yard like some kind of orphan girl and start weeding the jungle that used to be the garden, and she doesn’t let me come in until it’s dark, and even then she tells me I have to finish it in the morning.
after
No sooner do I step in the door than she makes me strip and get in the shower and wash and scrub with a brush and all that. I asked her what the point was since I’d just get dirty again in the morning. She said I should watch my tone if I wanted internet time tonight. So I shut up.
around the tomatoes
So now it’s 8.30 and me & the dogs are just getting dinner and to top it all off she remarks, in an oh-yeah kind of way, that she sees I still haven’t made any more progress on the book project. And don’t get me started on her theory about why the garden turned into a jungle in the first place. Hint: not because of all the rain! You can never please GUs!!
I miss Marky. It’s not fair having to do chores by yourself. I don’t want my procrastination busted by TL. I hate her. I hate her even more because she’s not mean like she used to be, but she’s mean in a whole new, modern, long-suffering stupid way. Boo, double boo, ten thousand boo. And poor me while we’re at it. 
p.s. I’m making chocolate chip cookies and I don’t care what she sez!!
p.p.s. When I showed her where my hands got all cut up in the garden, she sez: “I told you to wear gloves.” And NOW she’s making me take out the trash. BOO!!!
