I suppose the day you come to your little blogger home and open up an new post only to realize that you feel so freak'n good that you have nothing to say, is a good day.
I'm still a busy girl in my head, I thank g'd for this layoff; I don't know how I ever managed to do anything I do and work a few days a week, too.
For your verbal edification, here are just a few reasons for my happiness:
1)For the first time in years (oh, alright... weeks) the sun will be shinning SO BRIGHT I will need to break out the sunscreen. Sweet Jesus, it's about time.
2)The other day, I walked into my bathroom, that I had recently cleaned (which included picking up approximately seven empty toilet paper rolls that had been strewn over the counter and floor for days because nobody wants to bring them to the recycling bin downstairs), and was struck by what I thought must be an apparition.
Yes, I had recently cleaned the bathroom..., but I didn't but the new toilet paper on the roll (after so many years, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em, right?), and there before me was a new roll of toilet paper on the roll... get the fuck out of here! I don't know who did it, and I don't even care if my house is haunted and it was done by a ghost; it was done.
So, here I am: there is no problem big enough that I feel compelled to blog until my body is emptied of emotion, the sun is set to shine so bright I will need sunscreen, and.... AND, there is toilet paper on the freak'n roll that I didn't put there.
Really... need I say more?
Well, yes... I do. It seems asthough I spoke too soon.
I was writing the above just before my husband, who has five or six more injections to go, got up.
As usual, he awoke feeling nauseous which was further aggravated by not being able to find his work clothes (this due to the fact that I haven't folded the five loads of laundry that await me).
Finally dressed, he sighed and swore about something that I felt sure was my fault, and I winced, but then he said that he "hates how these pants are too big." I whew'd in my head because I didn't make his pants too small. Thank god for small mercies.
He came and sat down with his coffee and laptop for his morning routine, and within about one minute, when he went to take a sip of his coffee, all hell almost broke. As the devils luck would have it, he completely missed his mouth and spilt hot coffee all over himself, his clothes..., and computer.
Oh my dear g'd. My body froze. Please don't wreck my house, please don't wreck my house, please don't throw your lap top...
I am happy to report that he made it through that without losing his mind completely, without throwing anything. I also made it through the above with out running around like a granny with her head cut off; all taking care my man (to excess), being a good ol' soldier.
I know deep down he just wants to give up. I know he hates this.
And then, being the girl I am, I thought I should help him out a little so...
I took my lead from Barak Obama, and I looked at him and said "Don't you worry sweetie, it's not that bad," and then I winked.
mantra: now back to our regular scheduled sunshine
