Yes, I know... it's been forever since I last blogged. To be honest, I haven't really felt like writing. Or even talking. I have, however, been giving off radioactive waves of temperamental meltdown. (read: having temper tantrums worthy of a two year old)

I'm in a bit of a funk.

I don't like displaying my funkiness for the entire world (handful of readers) to see, thus the silence. Except, now that my spawnlings have escaped the wrath that has been me and run off to baseball practice with Mr. Clean, I'm alone... and sick of being silent.

So what's going on here?

This Team Mom thing? It stinks. Actually, it's not that stinky. The problem is that I have one mother who insists on calling my damn cell phone Every. Freaking. Day. Sometimes twice! To ask me the same question every time - and I give her the same answer as the last fifty bajillion times. But the joke is on her because I hid the phone today. Indeed, I hid it so well now even I can't find it. The silence is somewhat comforting. Having baseball practice four days a week is not. It's running me ragged.

Also? This whole Mercury in retrograde thing? It's not affecting my electronics. Instead, it's affecting my spawn! So much so, I'm starting to wonder if perhaps the hospital switched them at birth for some freaky prototype cyborg changeling babies. I found myself digging through Shaggy's hair the other night in order to find the OFF switch. They've gone Terminator on me, and on each other!

Seriously, if they break out into one more scrappy argument they're both being sent to the barn to live. I'm. So. Done. Normally, when I say that... they Listen. And Stop. Except this week, they've looked at me every time I've said it and I can see the red lights blinking behind their twisted little pupils. They are trying On Purpose to drive me batshit crazy. They're also succeeding.

The worst part about all of it - we're supposed to leave next Friday for a big surprise Spring Break trip. So far, the little demon punks have no clue about where we are going. But part of me wonders if maybe they're not somehow aware of the upcoming reward and therefore acting like eedjits because they realize I cannot get a refund! No, that wasn't the worst part. The Worst part is that it's a secret so I cannot stomp my foot and say, "Well that does it, you just lost a trip to Disney World with that attitude!" No. I can't say that, because they don't know that's where we're going. Punks.

I'd love to say I've been taking out my frustrations by hiding in my bedroom and working on my outline but the truth is... I haven't even added to that character interview since the last time I mentioned it. I have been completely off writing here lately with everything else going on. No wonder my temper is snapping its wicked sharp jaws at anyone who gets close enough.

I did watch Lost last night, though, and I'm still in love with Sawyer. What a hottie. Stupid, but hot.

Good things? My never-ending supply of coffee; a coffee night with Wahoo that lasted until 1am - in order to catch up on the last month we haven't had a chance to even talk on the phone (so. much. fun!); the idea of going on vacation in just One. More. Week. (if I don't go nuclear before then); and Shaggy's birthday is on Sunday. He's requested my Vanilla Chai Spice cake. Cake is good. Cake is Always good. Cake with a completed character interview would be awesome.

So... If I'm a little absent this week, it's because I'm still having a meltdown. I hope to return soon with some funny.
2 Responses
  1. katkin Says:

    My most deepest sympathies for the blue funk. When I get those I call them the b*tch'n blues. Lord have mercy on anyone in my universe. I hold out my hand in sacrifice. Feel free to snap it off.....My cyborg parts are replacable. Heh.

  2. dragonfly Says:

    B*tch'n blues - I love it. Since you're a cyborg too, please... PLEASE... tell me where the Off switch is? In exchange for your sacrificial hand, that is. *grin*