Everywhere I turn there's the faint stench of vomit.
Being generally tired, cranky, busy, and uninspired today, I'm taking up Ann Douglas's suggestion to review the items on my desk. Helena (who vomited in her bed last night and then in our bed, and then all over me and the floor, and I expect the daycare is not too fond of toddlers who just keep vomiting) is home and currently napping, and though I doubt I will get organized, I may gain a little perspective.
A copy of The New Baby and Child Care Quick Reference Encyclopedia, splayed open at the entry on vomiting.
An old copy of the Canadian Association of Radiologists Journal.
A contract regarding the future copyediting of said journal, which I should review and probably sign.
Calculator, which I remember purchasing with my mother at Consumers' Distributing when I was in grade 7.
A big fat medical dictionary, which I use for work and which contains no helpful practical information regarding vomit.
Invoices from the Book-of-the-Month club, which I mean to follow up on, cuz they screwed up my order and haven't fixed it yet.
Manual for some world domination game J-F has been playing.
Two chewed up straws.
One tiny plastic purple teacup.
Photo of me on my second birthday, reminding me how much simpler life was 33 years ago, when if I vomited, someone else would clean up after me, and if someone else vomited, I likely didn't know a thing about it and could go about my day babbling to myself and eating cake.
PalmPilot, wearing a very thick coat of dust.
Three spiral-bound notebooks of different sizes, only one of which is mine, all mostly devoid of any real content (though mine does contain scant but very important notes regarding Sanskrit terminology), with nearly every page in the middle of the page bearing the stamp of Helena — a small but bold stroke, a hooked line, barely a squiggle, which she produces on declaring "I draw Mama. I draw Papa. Ilina! I draw bug!" et cetera. (I have yet to determine whether she means to draw a picture or write the word.)
Currently missing in action: my favourite pen.
Just plain missing from this picture: coffee! Where are my damn pop tarts?