The State of Things

Maybe it's the fact that I walked ten miles today and got up at the butt crack of dawn.

Maybe it's that H is gone and T.D. and I have ensconced ourselves in some silly dream world where we no longer live in the world of responsibilities and adult behavior but in lax land where everyday is man 'n' cheese day and pajamas are de rigeur. We've rocked out to 'Slow Ride' by Foghat more times than I can count. Toys are piled on furniture. The television is always on in some room if only for the noise. Last I looked some constant loop of 'Lost' was playing in the kitchen.

I can't even bring myself to look at laundry monster that is lurking, growling and taking over the upstairs of my house.

A zit has taken up residence on my face the size of Bolivia and if it doesn't go away soon I might take a blow torch to it or start teaching it French. Either way would be an improvement. I swear it has its own personality and it's an ornery bastard.

I've bit off more than I can chew in the work department and I'm feeling sorely underpaid. I guess that happens when you get paid zada. There I just made up a new word. I'm wicked smot!

Maybe my creative juices will actually start up again and I can stop feeling sullen and dried up like some old crone who has nothing good to say but decides that talking about anything, even if it the topic is the squirrely manager at the Safeway, it is better than talking about nothing. Though it would be infinitely more interesting to talk to the mean old bat (probably my age) at the brand spankin' new Panera this morning, but I won't. I'll save that for later I think.

Despite the fact that I'm a single parent for a while I'm not having a day like this one. Because here's the thing- for some reason all this concentrated T.D. time has not made me insane yet. I think I've actually fallen for my little dictator just a bit more the last few days. Her newly acquired evil laugh and all.