Life on Friday

Any day that starts with drying hubby's socks and underwear in the oven is usually not going to be a good day. That's just the way it works, and that's how I started yesterday. I usually dry socks and underwear in a gentle 200 degree oven (in a pinch, when I have a load of laundry that's been washed and not enough time to dry them in the dryer,) but yesterday I was in a panic, and discovered that elastic doesn't actually melt at 300 degrees--which for me is useful unformation. (My husband, who didn't know the state of these important articles of clothing, let me sleep in until 6:45.)

I gave up 4 hours of my day to passing out schedules to the 8th graders at the middle school. Fortunately I find observing my son's peers to be pretty fascinating stuff. During the down times I was able to crochet a little, though I got exactly half as much done as I should have due to not following the chart correctly. Arg. I hate it when that happens.The shamrocks were supposed to swing left, right, left, and mine went left, right, right.

While I was at school I also got caught by the owner of salon I go to (who was bringing in her step-son) with my hair that I cut and dyed myself the night before (put back in a pony tail because the color turned out darker than I had intended and I found it a little shocking.) This is preferrable to getting caught by my stylist, who SHOVED me the last time that happened. (She was doing my daughter's hair, and she kept looking at me funny, first she said, "Boy, that sure faded or something," then she reached out and felt it, and her eyes narrowed and she said "Did you put something over it?" and I admitted that I had and she SHOVED me, with both hands.) I know I'm not the only one who gets pressed for time and tempted by the boxes of dye and little loops of fake hair swatches at Target.