Another bummer, but this one has a picture, at least.
I�m just feeling so�eh. Is that possible? Can one feel �eh�? It�s the only word to describe it right now.
I�m so sick of this sinus thing. It�s killing me. I feel like I�ve had it for a month, and most likely I have. It�s been so long that my inner hypochondriac is starting to think of cancer and brain tumors.
Nothing�s getting better, everything�s getting worse. I�m so stressed out about money that I almost don�t care. I�m toying with the idea of just saying �fuck it� about the business and just going back to work. It�s so stressful. It�s a great deal of responsibility, I still don�t know what the fuck I�m doing and the whole �filing taxes� thing is just scaring the crap out of me. That, and my husband is a retard who has no clue and just works and works against me.
I�m so sick of kids. Daisy is going home today and It�s not a moment too soon. I�m hoping that Andrea�s kids don�t come today, but I�m sure they will. There are never last minute cancellations when I need it. So I have to clean up the mess that�s been here since Christmas, so Colin won�t eat Mickey�s Legos or Minnie�s play make-up.
I have so much to do and I just can�t bring myself to do anything. And this shit hasn�t just started, it�s been going on for a while. It�s just harder and harder to do things as time goes on. I have to go out and buy laundry soap, or I�ll only be able to do one more load, and I�m having a tough time getting around to it. It means motivating these three kids and bringing them with me, and I�m not up for it.
I can�t wait until Daisy leaves. She�s been here too fucking long. I can�t wait until she takes all of her shit and fucking leaves.
Dick said he might take the kids for the night, but I believe that about as much as I believe in Santa Claus. Yesterday it was a song and dance about scraping up some money to feed them. Yeah, you sound stable.
It just would be too good to have them gone at the same time as Beavis. It would mean that I would be without children for the first extended period (ie; more than three hours) ever. Which would likely mean the end of the world.
I had another of those dreams last night. The end of the world dream where I�m not with my children and trying desperately to get to them. I think this means one of two things. One, I really need to stop watching �The Day After Tomorrow� every time I run by it on HBO. But that�s tough because staring at the beauty that Is Jake Gyllenhaal is one of my few pleasures left in life. Two, I�ve got some fucked up shit going on in my head.
I wish I could be funny instead of such a downer, I really do. Heck, I wish I could just get dressed.
Anyway, enough of my crap. I scanned one of the wedding pics that my dad gave me for Xmas. Actually, I scanned two, but the second one came out all fucked up because my computer is on some retard shit. And I don�t have another three hours to do It again.
Anyway, here it is, my parents at their wedding, July 19, 1969 in Norwich, England:
From left to right (I hope):
My older brother Gary, 7 at the time, my mom�s mother Cecelia, my dad�s best man Mike, my mom, my dad, my mom�s maid of honor Maggie, my mom�s brother Phil and his wife (although I don�t know if they were married yet in this pic) Penny.
You have no idea how much this picture means to me. To think that this is my parents. It�s more than a picture to me. My dad was only 22, my mom 25. He met her in England and fell in love and they got married and she left the country of her birth to come here with him. I don�t know if there�s any man alive that I could do that for, but she did. When she was seven months pregnant with me, to boot. And then they built a life together and in 1978 she got sick to the point where it all fell apart. But through it all, my dad stayed with her, he never divorced her. To this day, he has so much of my respect for that.
Anyway, now that I�m blubbering like a fucking baby, I guess I�ll get moving. Crying is so not good for the sinuses. Or the kiddies.
Later.