My original subject was too "emo"

It's funny the way things can suddenly turn around. Not always for the bad...but not always for the good either. Maybe for the...kinda ok. But honestly, I never really know what to think about...anything, really. My mind, my thoughts, are usually a jumble of scrabble letters on the stands before anyone really makes any actual words out of them. Triple word score on Demented...wait, that's not right, is it?

Letters come together, sometimes they form words, sometimes they don't. It's my longoria (read: word vomit) and I live by it. Mainly because that's just how it is in my little horrorland. The letters, the words, the sometimes full, actual sentences...they don't always make sense. Not to me...not to people...not to the actual voices in my head. It's something I come to live with. And so it begins. Take two drinks. A couple of pills. Repeat.

When I think, I write. When I write, it doesn't always make sense. This is a grand example of one of those times. Currently I sit in front of my weasels' computer, listening to the soft purr of snores as he sleeps, and I think. I think and I think...of what it is that I actually want to say, and...nothing. Nothing comes to mind. Yet, when I'm not looking for words, or sentences, they spill out like a bulimic's Christmas dinner. It's uncontrollable...to a point. To the point that it's hard for me...at least in the past few years...to actually cry in front of anybody. I'll bite my lip as hard as I can and intermonologue, "Don't cry, don't cry. Just breathe." It works, but it's hard. And kind of controllable (read: tough acting).

So, is there an actual point to this little rant of mine? Not really. In fact, I'm drunk...on natty light and day four of no sleep. I wonder if I'll be able to sleep at least a little tonight. The past 3 days, it wasn't really affecting me. In fact, when I worked (read: paid gym), I seemed to feel better and actually energetic. You know, the adrenaline combined with a high dosage mix of Monster and Diet Coke pumping through my veins as I moved boxes around and lifted and squatted as recquired...made me a little awake, despite the lack of the sleepytown visits. But now, it's the weekend. No working (out) for a whole two days. And my battery juice pretty much seemed to run out halfway through today. Which, like the past two days, seemed to last an eternity. Wait, rewind, I keep losing my train of thought.

Ugh, with the no sleep, it's like my realities and my dreams become one and the same. Unintelligable to the untrained mind (read: me), do therr'd nothing I can do about it.

Ok, I'm starting to have to hit the backspace button one too many times (read: drunk), so that's when I know I need to stop blahgging. Take two drinks. A couple pills. Repeat. (read: good luck making sense of this invariable mess of thoughts).

On another point of messed up thoughts...wondering about that girl that talks to him, daily, it seems...and the one that used to be in his life who I hate...am I crazy? Or just a girl? I'd like to say it's just cause I'm a girl, but that's just an excuse. Who knows why I get the paranoid, schizo feelings, but I do. And it sucks. And the not sleeping doesn't help my rational thinking either. There's always the possibility of cheating. Note: cheating isn't always physical. It can be emotional as well. And secrets? Well, let's just say they fan the fire. Take two drinks. A couple of pills. Repeat.

Oh me oh my

So I've come to the conclusion that I am completely insane and I should be admitted. One padded room with a view please. And a fashion designer polka dotted straight jacket. Yes, I believe that would do me right.

I always wonder if people that are in institutions are there because they need it, or simply to get away from...shit. You know, the shit everyday that happens. Hmmm, something to think about. Whatever. My whole point is that it would be nice...a padded room. Don't forget the view.

The good thing about my crazy little phase is that I'm losing weight. Add the not being able to eat anymore to 7 hours of lifting and moving anywhere from 20 to 1,000 boxes and you've got looser pants, smaller boobs and less fat all around. Silver lining, right?

Oh, and to add to my insanity...I'm back to not sleeping again. Yes folks, incredibly grumpy girl is back. When you can't sleep, time seems to slow down and speed up all at the same time. Everytime you glance at the clock it seems to be the same time as it was 15 minutes prior...but then if you do finally fall into a semi kinda sleep, next thing you know, it's time to get up. No food, no sleep makes Mal a grumpy girl. An incredibly grumpy girl. Meh, I've gone through this before. After a fews I won't even miss the sleep. And I'm pretty much used to the no eating. Not that I'm intentionally trying to starve myself. I still eat. Just not as much as I used to. The stress and depression I've been under lately basically fills my stomach with knots...no room for food. And on days like this, where I just consistently work to get all my stuff done, I skip lunch so that I can just leave earlier. I haven't eaten today yet. I opted to blog instead of food and a shower. That'll come later.

::sigh:: I'm starting to babble. Surreality is starting to set in. Another side effect of the no sleeping. Two drinks. A couple of pills. Repeat.

My week...you know, in a nutshell

My week...you know, in a nutshell
Monday: Work at 5:00 am...no, that's not a typo, FIVE A.M. 920 boxes later, I pretty much wanted to die.

Tuesday: Thinking my karma would be good because I returned a lost wallet full of cash that was left behind would be wrong...some dipshit asshole stole my favorite purse from my car. My car that was in my driveway. Granted, it was empty, but that's not the point. My car was violated.

Wednesday: Work at 6:00 am...ick.

Thursday: Don't remember much. It's that lack of sleep.

Friday: Realized that not only was my favorite pursed ripped from the gut of my car, but my cd's were gone too. Seriously, all of them. I had worked hard to try to build up my collection since the last time my cd's got stolen. If there is a god, he hates me. Or karma does. Oh, and how could I forget the once again amazingly, absolutely bitchin' booty I got...ya, I have the right to brag!

Drink a couple of beers. Two pills. Repeat.

My tongue...it's magic

Ok, so this blahg has absolutely nothing to do with my tongue...I just happened to say that exact thing to my weasel and thought it appropriate to use as my subject. So now onto more pressing matters.

Not really that pressing, but I am tired. My job is hard. But I like it. Just like I like other hard things...ok, maybe I should stop right there.

It's pretty obvious what my mind is on. And contrary to popular belief, girls can't let it go. I'm pretty sure that if I had balls, they'd be blue right now. Hey, it happens.

And I'll stop right there because I know my dad and my sister read this and if I go any further, they'll have nightmares for months.

More later when my mind isn't so one tracked.

Those things we do...

Here is my life lately...in a nutshell:

1. New job...I like it, but it's damn hard and I'm pretty sure I lost 10 lbs. in sweat alone today...unloading 435 boxes from a huge, HOT truck.

2. My new car...well, new to me...is now out of commission...no money to fix it. Stupid starter, cullinoid or altenator...whatever it is.

3. My glasses broke. Stupid Costco. Luckily I still have my old ones.

When I first started making this list, I was pretty sure I had more to say about what's going on, but I'm so damn tired that I can't even think anymore. Who knows, the things I wanted to say probably weren't even that important. Meh. I'm done. At least for today. I'm sure anything I do, say and/or write will be sub par unless it's a weekend and I didn't have to work.

I guess we'll see. No longer a chatty cathy.

It's off to work I go

I started my new job at Michaels' on Thursday. I had one and a half days to be trained. Ya, that was real fun. So now on Monday, I'll be left to fend for myself.

The job? Well, the official title is "Product Flow Coordinator". Which in my dirty birdy mind, means something funny. Unofficially, I'm the receiver. Which entails me to lift and move heavy, big and sometimes awkward boxes around and off the delivery trucks, and scan them and check them to go out on the floor. The one and half day of doing that pretty much made me feel as though I'd done 2 straight days of step aerobics.

I'm sore. And it doesn't help that I had a bunch of amazingly hot mind blowing sex last night. Sorry, I just had to put that in, cause well, it was THAT good. And I have to brag. Not need to brag...HAVE to brag.

But I digress. I think I'm going to like my job. Not only is it my favorite store, I get a discount. Hell ya. Projects galore!

Oh, and not to mention the money. Considering I need to pay my phone bill. Currently I can only recieve calls...and who knows how long that will last. Damn being a broke ass bitch. Though I won't be getting paid much. When I told my weasel how much I'd be making, he said "that's cute!" Yeah, my new salary is cute. Like first job 16 year old cute. Eh, I wasn't expecting much. I mean, they will work with my schedule once I start school in November. So it will all work out.

Speaking of November, I've really been craving a Thanksgiving dinner. But like now. Not on the official holiday. I don't know why. But I just really want to make a turkey with all the fixins'.

Weird. Well, I have to go now. There is some interesting cartoons on now. It's funny how I never watch network tv, what with my 200 some odd channels my cable gives me. My weasel REALLY needs to get cable. I mean really. Dazed isn't really the right word, but it's the first that comes to mind.

Out of the mouths of babes

"Mom, I probably like weiners more than you do!"-the genius

Let's hope not son.

Disclaimer: Not that it would really be THAT big a deal. I'm just sayin'.

The ocean was blue as balls

It's Wednesday afternoon. I've had 4-5 beers, it's hard to tell. And I'm kinda drunk. Who knew being a stay at home mom could be so much fun!

Conversations of drunk bitches:
"Look at his balls and tell me what you think they look like."

"No, I don't want to look at his balls! That's gross! Why do you always make me look at his balls?!"

"Just look at them and tell me what food they look like. And if you don't see it, when I tell you, you'll totally get it!"

"Ugh, ok, let me see his balls!"

*Pause for dramatic effect*

"I don't see it. Just tell me what food his balls look like."

"They totally look like a kiwi!"

"Oh my gawd! They totally do!"

By the way, we're talking about Charlie Mops' the dogs balls...not an actual human, in case you were wondering. Wow, the shit you talk about when inebriated.

One of those photo things.

Here are some pictures taken recently. The bro-in-law says my blogs are boring, ONLY because I don't usually do much with pictures. So here you go.

Here is a clear pic of my ::tear:: car after the accident.

Here it is from the inside. Ouchie.

The princess...of cheese!

The irexican. 10 points if you know what I'm talking about!

We put on a pretty bitchin' awards show!

Ya, that's right! Shut up and rock!

This is seriously the biggest pizza...EVER!

My weasel...looking into the light.

My weasel in the black...he's hot! Oh, and the other one...he's just gay.

Oh, and last but not least, my celebrity lookalikes. I stole this from my sister. It's pretty funny that I got some guys in there. Damn. But my number one look-a-like is Gisele Bundchen?! bahahahahaha That is pretty much the funniest thing I've ever heard. Enjoy.

Oh what a night

So I succesfully hosted AxZxRxDx's 3rd annual Fatal Femmes Awards on saturday night. And I have the corset bruises to show it. Damn corsets. But it was fun. Everyone had a good time, which was the main point of it all. So I'm pretty happy with myself about that. I don't have any pics yet, but the second I get them, ya'll will be the first to see them. I realized today that I didn't sit down the entire night. Part of the reason being that the corset pretty much restricted any sort of sitting movement...but also part running around in full hostess mode. Running up on stage to announce the next band...running around to chat up everyone and make sure they were having a good time...running up on stage to announce the awards. Whew, I'm getting tired again just thinking about it.

On another note, when I took the princess to school today, we happened to arrive at the same time as her "best friend" Lily. I politely said hello to her and her mom, who, when she looked up at me, was pretty taken aback that I could be the princess' mom. The princess being California tan, light brown hair, big green eyes, tall, thin, cute as a button. Me being short, fat, tattooed, blue black hair, pierced. Ya, it's pretty safe to say that I get plenty of stares at that school. Not only am I pretty much one of the youngest moms there, I also look the way I do. But seeing Lily's moms reaction was funny. It'll be interesting to see how she reacts on a day when the princess wants Lilly over for a play date and her mom sees how "normal" my house is. It's just all a big laugh. I have to laugh about it otherwise I'd probably be even more bitchy than I am.

Speaking of bitchy, I picked up the princess' dog brownie from her grandpa's place, cause, well, he doesn't like the pooch and doesn't take very good care of him and since the ex moved to an apartment he can't have the dog at yet, I thought I'd watch him for a while. Why not. So I bring him home and pretty much the first thing he does is piss. In my room. Most of which got on the bedskirt. Seriously, I think I'm cursed when it comes to animals. They could be completely house broken, but bring them over to my place and they'll piss all over the place. It's real fun. After I took brownie home and watched him chase the little schitzu bitches around and scare them, I came to the sisters' place to blog and basically just use her for her stuff. And not even 15 minutes after I get here, she gets a flat tire. So I had to help her jack the van and get the tire off. Needless to say I hurt myself quite a few times. You know me, clumsy as an ox.

Well, that's pretty much it for me for now. It feels weird to blahg again, being that I haven't done it in forever. Oh, one more thing. I got a job. At Michael's! That is only my favorite store ever and I go there, when I have money, at least a few times a week. So we'll see how that goes. And they'll work around my schedule when I start school, November 7, so that'll be good. It will be hard however to get used to working again and not being a stay at home mom. Eh, shouldn't be a problem, it was nice while it lasted though.

Fuckin pointer finger

I seriously just wrote a long ass blahg about my upcoming trip...missing my weasel...laundry...fuckin mailmen...poison letters...first days of school...crying...and a bunch of other stuff...and I. JUST. HIT. THE. CANCEL. BUTTON. What the fuck. I hadn't even copied it like I norally do to post on blogger. Fuck fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

I'm tired. And probably grumpy. It's hard to tell.

Here are 2 pictures I posted...you'll have to pretend that I just wrote about them.

Alzheimer's isn't the right affliction, but it's the first that comes to mind.

The awesomeness of it all...or lack there of

So for once, I don't actually have anything to really talk about. Which is surprising considering the fact that I haven't blahgged in like, a week or so...hmmmm.

Well, one update. The genius got glasses. He didn't want them at first because he said he didn't want to be a nerd. Even though his cool as shit mom wears them. But the second he put them on he was excited at being able to actually see. Even though he'd been profusely refusing the fact that he had a seeing problem at all. The glasses he picked out are, in my humble opinion, not as cool as the ones I wanted him to get, but eh, I guess he's actually at that age where my influence isn't really worth anything. Damn they grow up fast.

Speaking of growing up fast. The princess starts school Monday. Yup. And she's terrified, as she so succintly exclaimed in her new classroom when we were there for open house. She's worried that the boys are going to chase her and want to be her boyfriends. My, she's got an ego on her. Wonder where she gets it from? And I think her having a boyfriend would cause problems since she already has a boyfriend, she told me this week, that she shares with the twins at the babysitters.

The twins. They are probably the skeaziest little girls she knows. Seriously. The dances she shows me on an almost daily basis that the twins taught her make Britney Spears look like Marie Osmond. I make her promise to never do those dances again...at least until I tell her to show someone so that we can laugh. I know, best mom of the year, right?

But I digress. She's starting school soon, and I already know the waterworks are going to be flowing. Shit, I cry when I take the genius for the first day of school and he's going to be in the 4th grade. I have a feeling I'll cry when I take them to the first day of senior year! See also: cry baby. See also: waterfall.

Life...or something like it

Today I spent the majority of it in a car. I hate driving. When we finally got home, I metioned my fiery passion hatred for driving and my mom responded with a typical mom-answer, "And you were in such a hurry to drive when you were younger! haha"

Or, how about I wasn't really. I refused to drive and get my license and only did so on account of being threatened to have to quit my job at Pizza Hut if I didn't stop acting like a baby and just get my "fucking license."

So I did, and now. Now I'm spending days driving all over the valley. But tomorrow...tomorrow will be better. She goes back to work. Ah. How do you spell relief? W-o-r-k. For her at least.

And speaking of which, today was a weird, rantalicious driving day. This morning on my way back home from picking up the kiddos from their dad's, I was heading North on Price Rd., when I noticed something very strange. On the two lane, one-way road, I was in the right lane, and in the left lane, heading the complete opposite direction, was an old lady. Nonchalantly driving the wrong way. (how many more times can I say "way"?) I didn't really know what to do. So I just kept on going. Watching, of course, in my rear view to see what would happen. Weird.

Then, going home, finally, there was this bitch just sitting in the lane that I needed to turn into to get home. There's construction going on and lanes are blocked off, so you can only turn right out of it, and there's one lane blocked so you can go down into my neighborhood (I know I'm not describing this very good, but bear with me). If you're headed South, there are TWO signs that say no left turns. So I was headed East and had to turn left to go North, into the only lane open for such a thing, and there she was, just sitting there, waiting to turn left. When clearly, previously said TWO signs indicated that there was no left turns. So I had to sit and wait for a whole other light cycle to turn. Stupid people shouldn't be allowed to drive.

Well, now that I've surely confused everyone with my cornucopia of words, I should probably go home now. It's time to pick up the Queen's vicodin...maybe then she'll pass out and I'll have the night to spend with my weasel in peace and quiet. Oh, and I'm going to change my name...but shhh, nobody tell her. So when she calls out "MAL!!" every 15 minutes, I won't answer cause that won't be my name anymore. Ya. Sounds good. Mental retardation isn't the right sickness, but it's the first that comes to mind.

I know, I know, I'm a commodity

I've gone through my blahging withdrawals quite well. At least the shaking has stopped. So I thought I'd drop by for a quick hello...you know, for just a small fix. It should tide me over for at least a couple of days.

Just a qiuck update, my daddy came into town this weekend and I got to see him and my stepmom for a little bit this morning. It was nice. And he still looks exactly the same...just a little older. But now they're back on their way to El Paso, my home town.

My mom's doing better. Hobbling around with her walker, right foot laden with a purple cast. Since she can't drive though, guess who gets to be her chauffer. Me. It's not too bad though, as much as I bitch about it. The thing that does suck though is sitting in waiting rooms for hours at a time. That's mos def no fun. But we'll get through it. Just another hurdle to jump over.

Hmmmm, what else. I know I'm missing some stuff, but it's really stuff that needs to blahgged about all alone. You know me, I can go on and on and on and on and...well, you get the picture.

So off I go to do...whatever it is I do now. Ahh, this fix was a good one. Junkie isn't the right word, but it's the first that comes to mind.

Whoa is really all I can say

My mom's doing better now. She's got a slave...and by slave, I mean me. But really, she's good. She even got in and out of a bath all on her own...without further hurting herself. I went to the tow yard yesterday to pick up my belongings and boy was I surprised at how she even survived the wreck. The entire front is CHARRED. And so smushed up that I didn't even recognize it at first.

The insurance company sent someone out to inspect it today and they have concluded that it is indeed, totalled. Ya, a monkey could have told you that...in fact, I told them that. So now we have to wait for the adjuster to call and let us know what our settlement will be. Good thing we have insurance...bad thing the other guy didn't.

Now I have to search for a new, cheap car. Everyone cross your fingers and hope that I don't end up with a jollopy.

I know I've said this before, but I. NEVER. WANT. TO. DRINK. AGAIN!It was ladies 2 for 1 liquor night at Septembers' last night...ya, me plus that equals a bad idea. I even cried at the bar last night as I was recapping the past couple weeks to some friends I hadn't seen for a while. I was THAT girl. And not to mention this morning as I bolted out of bed and barely made it to the toilet as I vomitted red cranberry vodka and jager bombers. Ick. And again and again and again. Two of the times in which I peed. I swear, I never make it in time to pee first, then vomit. No. I always make it in time to vomit and then pee myself. Ick. I don't even know why I feel the need to share this with the internet. But eh, I think like 5 of you read this, so it's ok.

Extremely hot day, bossy mom and worse hangover EVER made for an interesting day, to say the least.

Tiny man with the hammer pounding in my head, go away!

No longer waiting for the 2nd shoe to drop

A funny thing happened on the way home from work today. At least for my mom. As she was turning east onto Rio Salado from McClintock, some asshole ran the red light and smashed into her. She was driving my car...it spun out of control...the engine caught on fire...the driver jumped out of the car and ran.

So, she's ok. For now, she's in the hospital with a fractured ankle, not to mention pretty bruised and shaken up. And a bit morphined up, since she's in a lot of pain.

Once the car stopped spinning, it stopped, but then the engine caught on fire and she was having trouble getting out of the car. A woman appeared and helped her out to safety. The asshole ran, but some bystanders ran after him, tackled him to the ground and restrained him til the cops got there. He had no license, no insurance and it wasn't even his car.

I was on the phone with an old friend with whom I hadn't spoken with for months. My mom called on the other line and I ignored it figuring she was just calling to tell me she was on her way home or something less important (I'm an asshole...I know this). I got off the phone with my friend and called my weasel beacause he had called me first. While trying to figure out whether I was to stay with him or him with me, my mom rang in on the other line again. I figured I'd answer since it might be important.

"Hellooooooo!!"
*man's voice* "Can I speak with Mal?"
*confused* "This is her."
"This is officer so and so from the Tempe police department."
"OH MY GAWD!! OH MY GAWD!! WHAT HAPPENE??!!"
"She's allright, but your mom's been in an accident. The ambulance is taking her to Scottsdale hospital."

Then just a bunch of blah blah blah because by that time I couldn't hear what he was saying and I was hurrying to get dressed. Needless to say I was pretty freaked.

Currently she's in the hospital and she's doing good, considering. We'll bring her home tomorrow. But not before I go see what's left of my car and gather my shit that was in there, like my skates, etc. The cop said they couldn't even close the doors and the windows are all shattered.

When it rains, it pours. That's for damn sure.

Rip out my uterus and call me Sally

My head pretty much feels like it's going to explode. I think I'm getting a sinus infection. You know, I didn't even have allergies until I moved to hell...I mean Arizona. And now?! I have them...BAD. So right now, I can feel the pressure building up...like my head's going to float right up and then BOOM explode, just like that. I want to die.

As if feeling like I want to decapitate myself wasn't bad enough, I started my period today. So I also would like to rip out my uterus. Please. Who can do this for me?

Pretty much the only thing I like about being a girl is the fact that if I want something, all I have to do is my signature pouty face, and POOF, just like that...don't get me wrong, it doesn't work very often, but it does, on occasion, bring me what I so desire. And the boobs. Well, the boobs help with shit like that as well. Especially when the guy is too busy staring at my rack that he gives me back more change than needed...the list could go on. But that's it. Having the "curse" on a monthly basis sucks as much as Jenny (rubbernecker) who was the school blow job Betty...and that, my friends, is a whole hell of a lot. Ya, I said it, what are you gonna do about it.

So now I'm off to be grumpy while curled in the fetal position, sobbing softly as I watch a Lifetime movie.

Round and round we go

It seems as though we're not going to move...at least not just yet. It's funny because my mom always comments on me being so laid back and how I should worry about things more, but if I wasn't so laid back, especially around her, I'd probably shoot myself. The woman, though a great mom, is insanely spontaneous and has an energy about her that just makes you crazy. Spend ten minutes with her and your heart will beat faster and you'll feel the worst anxiety of your life...especially if she's stressed.

So for now, we're going to stay in the shot up house. At least until she gets another wild hair up her ass and decides we need to move.

Why do I still live with her, you might ask? Because of her, I'm going to be able to attend school and work only part time. So that's why. I'll live I guess. I have my sister to help me as she is our mom's voice of reason. Family...a four letter word?

Shot through the heart

So, this week, my second week of unemployment by the way, has been...crazy. As always, my life is never boring. Wednesday night, as my weasel and I were getting ready to go see Pirates of the Carribean, we heard a POP, some glass shatter and the screams of my mom and grandma. I had thought maybe one of them dropped something, and they're both screamers, so that wasn't surprising. As we walked out of my bedroom, I looked out the door into the living room and saw my grandma on the floor and my mom about to drop...confused, I walked out of my room to see what happened. My mom started screaming for me to call 911...between mumbles of "we got shot at" and "get down! get down!", I grabbed my phone. I was confused, to say the least. My weasel, always the prepared boyscout, had his gun at the ready, in case...well, anything else happened. It seemed as though it were a drive-by or a misdirected shot from the street. We're still not sure at this point. The police came, paramedics, even a ghetto bird. My grandma had been sitting on the armchair RIGHT. IN. FRONT. OF. THE. WINDOW. She had a slight hemotoma or something like that on the back of her head, but other than that, she was ok. No one else was harmed, and thankfully the princess was in my room watching a movie.

Needless to say, it was a pretty interesting night. My mom decided right then and there that we were moving...AGAIN. We've been in this house for about a month and a half. Shit. Fuck. Gawddamnit.

The plan was to move this weekend...but with the help of my sister and my laidbackness, we're going to wait. At least til the end of the month.

Let the search begin.

I've done a lot of crying this week. At first I thought maybe it was because I'm piamessing, but I've realized that lately when I'm stressed, I hold it in. So I feel a little better now. I had Kendra take me out last night and I got drunk. I think it was a little much needed drunkenness. Sometimes a girl just needs to get wasted and drunk dial her boyfriend in the middle of the night when he's sleeping. Hooray for alcohol.

Cheers!!

Disclaimer: Pardon the cheesy randomness of this blahg today. I'm still reeling from the gunshot, crazy mom, hangover madness and my writing is, in my opinion, not to par. But that's just how I roll.

Like funny ha-ha or funny sad?

Wow, it seems as though I've been out of step with the world lately...you know, having not blahged in about a week or so. It's funny how addicted I was (am) to blahging. I mean, after the shakes and constant sweating died down, I was ok. But the tossing and turning with the thoughts that you lovely readers weren't able to read about the daily actions in my inane life certainly kept me up at night. Really.

A lot has happened since last I blahged. Most recently, my grandma, whom is inflicted with the fun disease of alzheimers, has come to live with us. It's sad, but interesting at the same time. Just watching her do stuff and hearing her talk. It's sometimes like funny ha-ha but sometimes funny sad. Well, at least now we can keep a closer eye on her.

I should probably get on with my day...being as I've actually got stuff to do. You would think that being unemployed would allow me some time to just loaf around and sleep all day...but no, not for me. I've been pretty busy every. single. day. No rest for the wicked I guess.