Thursday, December 3, 2009
I'll have my lobotomy now. Thank you.
My husband is in ski country for the weekend, taking leadership classes for the Fire Department. He was voted back in as Chief last week which is good. For him. He called awhile ago to tell me that the "hotel" he's staying in, turned out to be a condo with a kitchen, dining room and a wood burning stove. Blah, blah, blah. Good for him.
Yeah, well I have a kitchen and a dining room and plenty of wood to burn...
...there's chairs, tables, all those nice wooden commemorative plaques that the department has given him over the years. Yeah. I have plenty of wood to burn. I don't need any stupid condo in the mountains. Leadership classes...hah. He can take all the leadership classes he wants. I will always be the boss of him. Bah.
I thought I'd take advantage of this time, get the kids to bed early, have a glass of wine and actually work on my novel. The best laid plans...or is it the road to Hell is paved with good intentions? One of those.
After a disastrous trip to Walmart, during nap time (I can't go into details...it's still to painful) I came home and unloaded my groceries. I popped a frozen pizza in the oven, gave the dog his thyroid medicine and yogurt, fed the kids and then made them go to bed. At seven. The strange thing? They went. Well, Nick did. Delaney did, because I carried her up, put her in bed and then stacked the child gates in her door to keep her in there. I need two, one on top of the other, so she can't crawl over. (Please tell me I'm not the only one that does that?) But the baby...the sweet, adorable baby. He's not tired. Nope. Not at all. He would like to play and pull my hair and drop toys in the dog's water bowl. He'd like to crawl on the table and bang on the computer keyboard. He'd like to open the dishwasher and pull out steak knives. But then I made him drink the wine, and finally, he's asleep too.
And I'm drinking Theraflu.
My throat is sore and that red wine wasn't helping out (kind of like the kids). And I can't seem to stop coughing. There's spittle all over the keyboard (it is TMI Thursday, you know). I'm a bit sick of the sickness in this house. I'm ready for it to be over. Colds, bronchitis, ear infections, the flu...just make it stop. Really. That's enough. Thank you.
And obviously, since I am writing in my blog, I am not working on my novel.
I'm bitter as hell right now, for several reasons, all of which I will spare you right now. Tomorrow you may not be so lucky.
I'm fighting that dark pit that's threatening to engulf me. I'm standing right at the edge, dangling my legs over the chasm. I really don't want to go there, I really don't.
Sometimes, I think that maybe lobotomies weren't such a bad idea.