Beseechingly Yours

Dear Powers That Be:

I am, once again, submitting my request for more hours in the day. As you may know, I have made this request before, but still find that there are only twenty-four. What's more, I waste five or six of those hours with sleep. This is not working for me.

If you are concerned that I will only fritter away my extra hours in front of the computer, you are wrong. I promise that I will keep a clean house, children well fed with nutritious wholesome meals and my husband well sated. Please note that since you've ignored my previous request, those are the things getting short shrift right now.

I don't mean to sound peevish and threatening, but I find your complete disregard for my need to be beyond the pale. Don't I do enough for you? I toe the line, mind my p's and q's and cover all those bases. I step daintily over cracks so as not to break my mother's back, never count my chickens before they hatch and rarely do I jump to conclusions. I follow the leader, only go when Simon says and always put the Mississippi between my numbers when it's my turn to be "it." I refrain from crossing my eyes so they don't stick like that, never stick my tongue to frozen metal poles and always cover my nose when I sneeze. I eschew tempting the fates, have never jumped the shark and have stayed away from anything remotely resembling ill-repute.

All I am asking for is a couple more hours! Really - what is the problem? I cannot be wife, mommy, employee, counselor, cook, maid, chauffeur, laundress, Zephyr the Dominatrix, decision-maker, coach, consultant, nail-clipper, band member, blogger and friend without a little more time in which to get these things done. I mean, you do want them done well, don't you?

And since you don't seem terribly quick to grant my other request (you know, the one about entitled birthright and a large, more than adequately talented staff and piles of money), the least you can do is slide me an extra hour or six so that I can do all the have to stuff and still have a little fun.

It's either that, or I start breaking all the rules. You know me. I'll do it. I won't exercise enough or eat right. I'll skimp on sleep, curse, drive too fast, scream obscenties at old ladies, teach my children the finer points of graft and obstruction, kick small animals, cough into those get-it-yourself pastry cases, stop flushing, upend public trashcans, smoke in non-smoking areas, ignore the safety presentation on airplanes, scratch inappropriately during staff meetings, not silence my cell phone in the movie theater and always use my OUTSIDE VOICE.

So? What's it going to be? (Looks at clock that reads 11:54 p.m.)

Yeah, I thought so. Now it's 12:01 a.m. and nothing has changed except now that blasted alarm is going to go off even earlier.

You, The Powers That Be, are cruel sticklers for time.

Peevishly,

Lisa