Tuesday, June 28, 2005

It's a Tuesday that feels like Christmas in July 4th on acid

Don't ask.
don't question--
it's true.
and why?
because I wrote it.
everything I write should be printed on tissue-thin paper and bound in black leather, then dyed red on the edges.
just to avoid confusion, the title should be spelled backwards and upside down.
I am the god of my realm, at least.
good thing for you my realm is very
I was on a coffee high this morning before I had my coffee.
took the kids to school,
came home,
did laundry,
did hubby,
did dishes,
did organziationalistical stuff...
with my pretty new baskets.
and I gave myself a little haircut yesterday.
feeling fresh and bouncy--
springy curls and braless go well together, eh?
I'm listening to my music, at top volume
as it spreads all over the house........
such sweet joy.
it's the little things, isn't it?
Like the sound of the garbage truck, and the sure knowledge that you've done your duty by putting the damn can at the curb.
except on those days when you've forgotten.
and why is it such a horrible, sinking, silently-screaming feeling when you DO forget?
Probably left over childhood trauma from Sara Sylvia Cynthia Stout...
that lazy little cunt.

it's a grey day.
and that rhymes.
Max is obsessed with rhyming lately,
and Oliver hasn't quite grasped the concept--
which, understandably, pisses him off.
"Clock and watch do TOO rhyme, MOM!"
er...nuh-uh, baby.
but they are related...
he'll get it soon.

ok, enough about them, let's talk about ME.
coffee rocks.
I have 20 minutes left of free time, so I better go finish organizing the little spot in the kitchen where I dump all my shit.
I'll take before and after shots!
no, not because you are expected to remotely give a damn--
but because it'll be fun for ME.
and remember: it's all about ME.
besides, you might get a chuckle out of how insanely messy it is.
I know I do.
either that or a sideache, but really what's the difference.

quick Michael Jackson joke, I stole from Jay Leno, just cuz we can't let this rest--
he's fucking guilty!!!
"Michael's considering moving to Vegas, for a change of pace, and to maybe start performing again. He'll be pretty comfortable, I imagine, since they encourage you to hit on 16 and double down on 11."

I am pretty sure I had something more to say, but since when do I remember anything?
that's what I thought.
for the record, I am out of that funk I was stuck in for so long--
no, this isn't another false start.
I can tell.
I've reminded myself to stop tying my personal happiness up in my appearance,
and all became golden again.
stupid forgetful subconscious.

also, remind me to fucking use the Napster account I'm paying for.
songs, people, songs.
I need them, Napster has them.
they also have my credit card number and the authorization to charge at will.
oh, I bought a blogger's book from Cafe Press yesterday!
I can't wait for it to arrive.
it's a novel.
with an ISBN number an deverything.

yet another reminder to me to
I will.
I will.
also, I will have a great day.
see that you do the same.

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