Long time no see! It's been a completely hellish week or so, complete with non-sexual hip bruises, a bedspring that won't fit up a stairwell, two dozen feral cats, six bales of Beagle fur, and an emergency plumbing problem. George the Superpet is panic-stricken and confused, and we've eaten so much Taco Bell that we don't even like it anymore. And THAT, my friends, is something I thought I'd never say. I haven't been drinking much because I can't find my liquor, and while I've never had a Xanax, this seems like the time to start. People at work, thinking I'm tired, are commenting on the dark circles under my eyes, which are actually just there because it's how I look. It's akin to saying, "Wow, you are just not attractive." But they mean well, and I'm taking it as a hint to use more foundation. When I find it.
So it's late and I have to move the boxes off of my bed, and we still haven't found the alarm clock, so I'm going to try to sleep. Last night I had a dream that I was with a friend from college (hi Sue!) and her military hubby was really happy and everyone talked about how nurturing she is, and I was in charge of a bunch of guys who have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and they were all cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs. Then I dreamed that CH asked me for a divorce, and I couldn't tell in the dream if I was upset about it or not. My attitude was sort of like, "Take a number, buddy, nobody is happy with me right now."
And I can't blog about my job.
I hope all has been well in the Life of the Wifers, and I have missed you all. I have a project to finish tomorrow night, but I will have something for Whoreticulture Friday. George and Todd say hi, and winners of the Bloggyversary prizes? I'll send your stuff as soon as I find it.
Love and inappropriate personal space invasion,