12:01 a.m.: Lie awake fretting over childcare and work. Baby sitter has selfishly selected friend’s funeral over feeding my child chicken cutlets. Weekly newsmagazine selfishly refuses to move publication date in order to accommodate childcare implosion. Husband selfishly unavailable to pinch hit, due to existence of own career. What to do…what to do.
12:14 a.m.: High-def Gossip Girl taking up too much space on TimeWarner DVR. Must watch and erase.
12:32 a.m.: Can no one, for the love of donuts, invent a maternity pillow that actually allows sleep.
5:22 a.m.: What to do about childcare today…what to do.
6:01 a.m.: What would be an appropriate fate for that monster in Austria? Certainly not death, unless it’s dragged out over the next 10 years and involves unspeakable pain.
6:12 a.m.: Speaking of execution, must figure out how to kill mouse living behind stove. Maybe explosives.
6:45 a.m.: Leave desperate follow-up message at company’s on-site childcare service, begging for emergency coverage.
8:20 a.m.: Finally reach live person at childcare service; cajole her into opening last-minute spot.
9:35 a.m.: Skate into 9:30 meeting. Just in time for important discussion of sociopolitical implications of Miley Cyrus posing semi-nude in Vanity Fair.