Hi. I like your shirt. You make me smile. Your eyes are like diamonds in the night sky. You so pretty; you have boyfran?
So, this week has been CRAZYPANTS. There has been a significant amount of vomit and a horribly magnificent number of people in my house and at all times, I have no less than thirteen different VERY! IMPORTANT! things I am terribly worried about. And that’s just the important things. Add on at least another couple dozen unimportant things that I’m also constantly thinking about and that’s about where I sit. It’s like, if I think extra hard about all of them, I can worry my way to success! Need to remember what to pack for a weekend away? Think about it all day until you vomit, and surely you won’t forget a thing! Afraid you’ll forget to fill up the tank? Concentrate real hard until you vomit, and you’ll remember, for sure!
And you know who’s an asshole? My brain. Because I can’t shut that hyperactive idiot down at night when I’m supposed to be sleeping. She just keeps thinking and thinking and thinking and I’m all SHUT UP, BITCH, and she’s all NUH UH, I GOT STUFF TO DO and I’m all DO IT IN THE MORNING and she’s all HAHAHAHAHAHA…no. We go on and on like that for hours until I quiet her down a little with melatonin and, while she never completely shuts her whore mouth, she mumbles quieter and I can eventually ignore her enough to fall asleep for a couple hours.
Today after work, I’m driving the girls and my mom up to their trailer for a day. Then the girls are staying for one more night and I’m driving back home alone. It’s a two hour drive and I’m looking forward to those two hours alone like you wouldn’t believe. Although, most of you are parents, so maybe you would believe. I’m going to stop at Tim Horton’s at the start of my drive, get a large Iced Cappuccino, pop in an old mixed cd from 2000 (the radio doesn’t come in up there), and not worry about the swears. I almost feel bad about looking forward to time alone. Almost.
Eirinn had a class trip on Tuesday and as soon as they arrived at their destination about an hour away, she threw up. The poor thing had been looking forward to this trip for about a month and she wasn’t in the door twenty minutes before she was sick. AH took the rest of the day off of work to pick her up and take care of her. Then Avery got sick at my mom’s. Actually, Avery was throwing up in a bowl while another little boy was throwing up all over an armchair while my dog was defecating on her carpet. Sometimes you just have to laugh (says the girl who wasn’t there and didn’t have to clean any of it up)!
Once everyone was done hurling all over the place, things got back to normal. Kids are in a constant state of war, house is in a constant state of warzone, and I’m in a constant state of WHO DECIDED IT WOULD BE ADVISABLE TO HAVE KIDS? I DON’T KNOW HOW TO DO THIS! SOMEONE DO IT FOR ME! GAHHHHH!!! while not sleeping and feeling like I could be sick at any moment. Probably from the not sleeping. And the thick air of flu breath that still hangs like a cloud in my house.
I’ve read a ton this week. I finished Youth In Revolt and Half Baked, polished off Catching Fire and Y The Last Man Book 2, and started Fables. I feel like I need to be reading at all times or I’m wasting something. I’m also 100% certain that this sudden need is in direct correlation to the chaos that surrounds me. Reading is, and always has been, for me and everyone else with the ability to injest written word, an escape, and lately I’ve been escaping as much as I possibly can. I can focus when I read. A book forces me to think about one thing at a time and most of the time it works. I still catch my mind wandering every once in a while and I have to go back and re-read what my eyes just skimmed over, but for the most part, reading is a way I can wrestle my brain into submission and we can both just sit there and follow along.
My bookshelf is full and the manufacturer no longer makes the one I have. This upsets me. VERY! IMPORTANT! thing number fourteen for me to think about.
I have the trailer, then a birthday party for my sister in law, then Ribfest (wooooo!!!!11!!) on Sunday. If there ever was a better way to cap off a weekend of panic-arm-inducing busyness than a festival devoted to sauce-drenched pig flesh, I don’t want to know about it. I DON’T WANT TO KNOW ABOUT IT.
God bless barbequed meat.