In which I lose my marbles

This school strike sucks for those of us working from home. It just plain sucks. Because I (a) don’t really make enough to justify full-time care for my kids and (b) given the choice, would rather not subject them to the Lord-of-the-Flies-supervised-by-texting-teens scenario going on at the day camp across the street.

All of this equals a LOT of extra time with my children, followed by work hours late at night, during which I heap curses on Christy Clark’s head.

Today, in an attempt to reintroduce my feral children to the use of their brains, I made them both complete pages from a math workbook. Unfortunately, this involved me having to relearn long division, so I could help MonkeyGirl.

(The fact that I’d forgotten how to do this means I was right all along. You actually DON’T need fifth grade math in order to live a productive life.)

Fortunately, I have this to look forward to. Brought over by my freelance writer friend Rachel yesterday, for an afternoon of commiseration:


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