"You see Bob, it's not that I'm lazy, it's that I just don't care".

Okay, so as if waking up the other day at 3:45 am wasn�t bad enough, this morning I was up at the ripe old hour of 2:00 am. I am turning into an old lady. Yeah, so I spent about an hour laying down and trying to fall back to sleep with no luck. Finally, at almost 3:00 am, I gave in and popped �Office Space� in. When that was over, I figured �fuck it� and went downstairs, got the paper ready to go out for recycling, folded laundry, made coffee, yada yada yada.

Now it�s nearly 10:00am, and I�m ready for a nap-nap. Yey.

The holiday weekend had it�s good and it�s bad. The bad was just the rain. WTF? It seemed like all three days started out gorgeous, and got crappy by the time I was ready to enjoy it. Son of a bitch. I mean, should we get on building that ark now or what?

The good, the best part was probably a return visit from krissie p and her friend from Texas, Nate. Hey, girl! That was yesterday. The kids just love krissie and Minnie was so excited that she was coming, that she asked me all. damn. day. �When is krissie gonna be here?�. And then she waited on them, taking their orders at the �restaurant� and taking pictures pictures pictures with krissie�s camera. It was a great visit and I think I really enjoy the smell of clove cigarettes now, too.

I wish I were in a better mood to recount the visit, but I�m not. The kids, Minnie and Mickey and Andrea�s two, have done nothing but fight and whine all morning. I�ve just taken away everything they�ve fought about. Pretty much I�ll be taking the furniture out of here, too, since they�re so fucking determined to fight.

I suppose waking at 2:00 am doesn�t help matters much.

It also doesn�t help that it�s still pissy outside, so I�m stuck in here with these fuckers all day. And no pot. God help me. You�d think since it�s my first week without Bailey, I�d be happier with the lightened load. No such luck. Plus, Aunt Flo is lurking too. Douchebag.

Oh, and Dick called this morning. I hate that I have become his personal vent as of late. Now, in addition to being fired, he had a falling out with Nina�s mom and she kicked him out. When it rains, it pours with him. You�d figure that at 40 years old he might have figured out how to keep a job and a roof over his head but this is not the case. And then he had to tell me about this confrontation he had with some schmuck at the soup kitchen, grow the fuck up already. Is it really so necessary to tell any fucking joe blow that might give you a dirty look to fuck off? Give it a rest, hasn�t that shit ruined your life repeatedly enough that you�d figure out that it�s detrimental?

I�m telling you, I cannot die. If I die, my kids are doomed. No matter how you look at it. I figure, these kids would have three options. Number one, go live with their dads. Well, as far as Beavis, Rod has proven that he is capable of keeping a job and a wife (they�ve been married since 1993) and a home. But, he lives in Ohio, and that would take Beavis away from the area he�s known all his life basically, and what would the chances be that he�d be able to come back here to see everyone? And if Minnie and Mickey were to go with Dick, omg. I can�t even imagine the life they�d have. It gets me all teary-eyed just thinking about it.

Option number two, stay with Hub. More doom. He loves the kids, and they love him. However, he doesn�t have the capacity to keep up with bills or rent or anything. Plus, they�d be cared for poorly, like with after school care, and food, clothes, etc. I remember when he had Butthead and Hilda on his own, that is not a life I�d want for my kids. And then there�s the fact that he�ll quickly hook up with another woman, and I he has a history of making very poor choices in women. My kids would end up with another Douchebag for a step-mom. No.

Option number three is not the worst, and actually would be my first choice, the kids go live with my dad. He�s emotionally distant and I don�t know how much affection he�d show the kids, but that would be my biggest worry. Otherwise, my dad could handle it.

See, now I could get a will saying this is what I wanted, but I�ve been over this subject with Hub�s lawyer before. I could specify who I wanted to have the kids, but it would have to go through probate and that takes forever, and where Dick has joint legal custody of the kids, the courts would most likely award them to him anyway. (The only thing Rod has in the courts for Beavis is child support shit, I think the only leg he has to stand on is the amended birth certificate from NY with his name on as father. Which I still use Beavis�s original one, with the MARK OF SHAME blank under �father�s name�). He�d have to be proven unfit, etc, and that would be a battle, too. It wouldn�t be hard to prove him unfit, just give him six months with the kids, but still�they�d have to go through a bunch of shit.

I�ll just stick with not dying. Which of course is a gamble, my immortality is certainly not guaranteed, but it�s all I�ve got. This is one of those times in life where I get pissed that I don�t have a mom! And that reminds me that this September I�ll be turning 35, the age my mom was when she got sick. Then begins the three year countdown to the age of 38, when she died. My 39th birthday will be the day that I fully accept that my fate is not the same as her�s.

I really hadn�t intended to write about all that. Where the hell did that come from?

Yeah, and QuickBooks? Makes me want to blow up my computer. I hate that fucking software. But, since I�m a retard and really know nothing about bookkeeping, I�m dependent on it.

I had Beavis�s friend, Robert and Rhonda�s son Shawn overnight until yesterday. The two of them, and Hilda, went to Wally World and bought one of those airhorn things, you know, the ones in the can? Then they took that across the street, outside of the fence for the golf course, and waited until people were ready to tee off or whatever the hell it�s called when they�re ready to hit the ball, and then blew the horn. Nice, huh? I can�t wait until that little shit gets his ass arrested. Cuz you know it�s gonna happen. He is going to sit in that cell for so long waiting for me. Bastid. It was funny though. I hope when he does get arrested, it's for something funny, at least.

Okay, I'm gone. The laundry beckons me.

Nun-nights.

Listening to: Oh god. Who knows. I can't think. It's that song form 1996. You know.

Currently reading: "She's Come Undone" Wally Lamb. That Dolores. I'd like to punch her in the face to wake her the fuck up.

Thinking about: Laundry and the wonderful grass clippings and bark mulch inhabiting it.