This has been quite the week.

1. I made plans with my PoF dude to go out on Monday night. Not an ideal date night, but hey, it was just a meet and bum-sniff event.

He cancelled, citing unexpected work commitments. Spent fun evening with Miko and rescheduled for Thursday.

2. Lost my keys. I don’t know where the fuck they are but really, I have to do something about my house. I blame space, I blame the attic, I blame the kids, but really, there is JUNK piled everywhere and it doesn't need to be there and most of it is mine.

3. Fought with Calvin. Over and over and pretty much lost my mind. Homework is the antichrist.

4. Bought small appliances - a hairdryer, clock radio, iPod dock, answering machine.

5. Had raging PMS. While attempting to get into the tiny space to plug in the new clock, I got frustrated and threw my plastic shelves across the room. Real mature. And you wonder where Calvin gets his temper from?

6. Thursday. Anticipation. All dressed, mascara on, hair brushed, I check my email. You know, just in the tiny chance that dude bailed on me again. I'm sure there will be no messages… but, sure enough, there was. He cancelled. Again.

OK, I got serious brownie points for graciously accepting his lack of excuse (I just can't fucking make it) - must be an afternoon of reading elegantwoman.org. But I clearly remember thinking, in my LL days, that I should disappoint everyone before I go out with them because you can tell so much about someone by how they react. Real gentleman do not yell at you or call you names, or make rude implications. Guess it works both ways.

Anyway, I thought there was a ring of truth (and desperation) to his messages and though it might make me a doormat, I am giving him one more chance. Really, just one more. The one bright side? When I said maybe it was my mojo, or the overused venue (Allan's) he said "It's not you, it's me" (and keep in mind he was well aware of the blinding cliché) and I fired back "Oh, that old chestnut." I was pleased to actually use that phrase!

Date night? Tuesday - AKA knit night. Miko's in NYC so I don't really want to go AND I won't need a sitter. God forbid I show up at knitting...

7. Went to the doctor for my check-up. I adore her so much. I unloaded about Calvin and what was going on and she was so great I almost started bawling. I sort of thought she would think I was over-reacting, but she was so sympathetic and understanding and had good ideas and is going to send both of us to talk to someone professional. I really hope that helps. She also suggested that, since homework was such a big stressor, that I give that particular joy to someone else. Daycare, school, Steve. Anyone. Just not me. It's so nice to have someone take away something that I really want to do but know isn't working at all. I am NOT helping him.

8. Calvin is 8 tomorrow. My baby. I'm hoping beyond hope that this next year is a bit smoother. More Dr. Jekyll, less Mr. Hyde. 'Specially since Jack has been sipping the potion lately.