Aiming for mediocrity

I had a friend once tell me that I was living my life at 300% and that it was okay to take it down a notch and live at 100%. Although there have been times in my life that that would've been a true statement right now I actually feel like I am only hitting about 40% in most areas of my life, and am closer to 30% in others.

In my pre-kid life I was the A student. The on who got all the answers right and yet STILL did the extra credit. I was always at least 10 minutes early to everything. And my room was always clean. I was sickeningly dependable. I was the kind of person everybody loved to hate.

I don't say all this to brag. Just to illustrate how far I've fallen.

You see today I did the unthinkable. Today I utterly and completely forgot that I had jury duty. The old me NEVER would've forgotten something THAT important.

But it's pretty much par for the course for the current me.

So here I am, plugging through the normal morning routine, feeding the kids, begging Adam to hurry so he wouldn't be late for school. It's 8:00, my husband is ready to walk out the door to work, and I'm still in my pajamas. I walk past the fridge, like I had a dozen other times that morning. But this time something catches the corner of my eye. A yellow piece of paper half obscured by a handful of recipts. And it suddenly dawns on me what it is-my jury summons. I quickly yank the piece of paper from the fridge and start running up the stairs yelling words that should not be repeated.

I'm supposed to report to court house by 8:30. I have no babysitter. I haven't had a shower. I'm not even sure if there is enough gas in my car to get me all the way downtown. More expletives. Of this I'm not proud. But it's true.

I tell my husband in no uncertain terms that he is going to have to get Adam off to school and either stay home with the other kids or find a babysitter himself because I have no time. I skip the shower and throw on clean clothes, grab an elastic to pull my hair up in the car, and make a mad dash for my car.

I drive like a maniac knowing that no matter how fast I drive I'll never make it on time and start wondering how late I can be before they hold me in contempt of court. To say I was panicked would be an understatement.

I finally arrive at the courthouse (late, of course) and the security guard at the parking entrance wants to have an in depth conversation with me about my vehicle. "Do you like your Saturn? What kind of fuel mileage do you get?"

I park in the first open space I see and then run (in my heels) to the elevator.

When I finally arrive at the jury gathering room I'm 20 minutes late. And the only entrance is at the front of the room. No way to sneak quietly in the back.

Fortunately they were in the middle of roll call and hadn't called my name yet.

In the end we waited several hours only to be released to leave when the defendant failed to show up.

The old me, the 300% me, would now have a witty way of ending this post. The current me can barely form 2 coherent sentences and is, instead, just going to leave it at that and go to bed. Try not to be too disappointed. I'm living my life at 40% these days, remember? This is as good as it gets. (I have dirty dishes in the sink, too. Deal with it.)