Wheel. Of. FORTUNE!

Oh, y'all - I'm falling down on the job.

Sunday is May 8th.  Which means two things. 

One, that's Mother's Day. And I managed to put a card in the mail to my mother yesterday - which may arrive Saturday or Monday for Mom.  So, clearly, I'm not going to Atlanta for Mother's Day.  Because, for one - I have the lingering remains of The Crud.  My ears feel pretty stuffed up, I still have a little cough... my eyes look remarkably better, and I don't feel like I'm going to explode in a flash of phlegm.  

I've been slimed.

But we'd be hard pressed to call me "well". 

So, I don't have the energy to drive four hours to spend 36 hours in Atlanta, then drive four back...

Especially given last night's activity.

Matt and I went to a hockey game. Not just any hockey game - but the one that ended up being the longest game in Nashville Predators history.  Triple Overtime.  We paid for one game, we got, basically two.  And we won.  At 1:03 AM.

This is literally what happened when Fisher scored.

Which means I didn't get as much sleep as would have been optimal.

Especially given...THE CRUD.

Ok, so I'm not going to Atlanta, Mom may or may not get a card on time, and I haven't ordered flowers or anything to redeem myself.

I'll redeem myself later.  I promise, Mom.

The second aspect of May 8th that has me flummoxed is that it's my nephew's 8th birthday.  And if you think I dropped the ball on Mother's Day... well, my poor nephew got equally poor planning.

I wrote him a note and emailed it to my sister, and he'll get some fun books in the mail about two weeks late - because...

Aunt of the Year, right here folks.

I have a few things I have to do this weekend to get ready to travel early Monday to California.

And I have to rest and continue to de-crud.

I should also probably cut myself some slack.  I've done right by my nephew more years than not. And I've been a decent daughter for the majority of Mother's Days.

Oh, and BTW - my doctor's office - the ones who didn't catch the ear infection - they called me this morning on my way to work to check on me.  I made it clear that I was better - thanks to a different provider medicating the living hell out of me.

So there's that.

Fortune favors the prepared.  I need to start preparing.