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Friday, October 8, 2010

VSG surgery Sunrise and sunsets

??4.0 the same as yesterday

I'm sitting here at the computer a bit peeved that I'm up so early. I feel heavy in my body so while my mind is awake (partially) the rest of my feels like it was plucked from sleep a few cycles too soon. Sigh. I just really want this day to be over with already.  I feel like I need one of those beautifully giftwrapped mornings where the sun, a lucent overripe peach with beautiful blush shades, throws its gilded rays into the clouds. The clouds answer the sun's song with a chorus of soprano pinks, alto reds and yellows, a whisper of tenor blue, a baritone gray dotted with resplendent silvery flecks. I need that morning.
Instead, my morning was a cacophony of dog barks, Thomas the Train songs, and "Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!" Sticky from falling asleep on the couch a-gain, groggy from being thrust abruptly from one realm of reality to another, fingertips wet with dog saliva (that's what I get for falling asleep on the couch), exhausted  from my part time gig and all I really wanna do is hit the reset button on this day. Sigh. I feel like I'm wound too tight and I've been popping and snapping on people like a rubberband. I don't regret anything that happened the other day when I quit TOPS, but had it happened on another day in another plane of existence, I might not have called her a bitch. Might.
 Take The Thing of Which I Will Not Speak  bearing down on me, driving almost 1000 miles in a few days, and sending my Aunt Ida to that great big kegger in the sky and I think that you have a recipe for Not Quite Feeling Like Yourself casserole.

 Not Quite Feeling Like Yourself casserole.
2 cups of exhaustion
3 tablespoons of tears
a dash of bitters
4ozs of forced laughter, minced
2 teaspoons of family fued
1 glass of moscato
4 tanks of gas
1 lost wallet AND keys
1/4 cup of overcooked, overdry, and overgross funeral food.

Take all of the ingredients and put them into a blender on the highest setting.
Blend until mixed.
Dump it all in a pressure cooker and just see what happens.

I'll continue this later, yall.



  1. I find myself in bed at 8pm on days like this...I would hug you but first...would you wipe the dog drool off your hand? I promise to do the same for you...*wipes hand on jeans*

  2. I love your blog. I look forward to it every day.
    From what you described about the way the way they treated you at TOPS, I'm glad you left too.


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