What Gives You The Right?

I am going to tell you what is so insidious about monitoring where people go online, especially in their own home, especially in their own computer.  It is akin to invading a person's thoughts, as they make one connection to another, skipping blithely along the world wide web.

Dear neighbor,

I apologize for "borrowing" your internet but it seems mine is no longer my own, and having to make justifications for what websites I visit when just does not jive with me.  I'll bake you some banana bread, okay?

Yours,

~M

*sigh*

These things  are definitely my own fault, but I'm learning as I go.

 

If I had to, I could go without my television for a month

Well, I don't even watch television now, so it would be easy! Computer, and cell phone, however, carry my life's work around in them, so I would be pretty desperate without them.



Besides, all the best shows can be downloaded!

 

Ahem - What is the best way to get someone's attention?

I like to show some cleavage and use my natural assets, like most red blooded American women. What, that's not right?

 

Better Today

I am feeling better today, though my poor intestinal track is tore up from the floor up.

I am avoiding my problems at work by not going, which I realize is a flawed plan because eventually I will run out of money, actually sooner rather than later, but I am tired of being hated for doing what I am told to do, and I am tired of He Who Shall Not Be Named flat out lying about what has gone on.  (I don't care that you are a cokehead, honey, and I am not gonna tell anyone.  You might want to wipe a little better when you come out of the restroom, though, and I don't mean your ass.)

Assuming my tore up intestinal track cooperates, I am going to get some good work done around the house.

Little Big Man busted up his arm playing football, getting tackled/fallen upon (having seen the beefcake in question, I lean toward the latter) by a rather large child, and he was being so tough about it, Fixxxer asked if his only weakness is kryptonite.  LBM responded, "No, fat kids are my only nemesis."  He is a funny little dude, and all apologies if you either are a fat kid, were, or are raising one.  As a former fat kid myself, I realize that this entire paragraph is falling on the line of appropriate, and likely breaking its' arm.  However, they can be hell on little dudes, but LBM has resolved that he has to get quicker, on the very good logic that in order to not get fallen on by fat kids you should be able to run faster than them.

Floppy Hair has managed to not steal anymore of his brother's baby dose Vicodin, a feat for which he assumes he should be praised.  I am to the point of taking what I can get with that child.

The rain continues, and some giant douchebag to remain nameless left the door in his room open, and it made the whole house freezing, as well as likely ruining the carpet.  Look, homeslice, I realize you are a sweaty bastard, but it's 40 effing degrees outside.

All in all, it's been a lazy day.  Which I approve of.

Funkdafied

I am in a funk today.

The sun won't shine and I didn't go to work. My cards don't wanna talk to me and I have a million things I want to write but I can't, because I am not at all certain they can just be my things, thanks to a snooping roommate. It's hard to create when you may be forced to share your creation before it's time. It's crippling, I would go so far as to say.

I feel fat and ugly and mean and petty.

My house is messy and I am behind at work.

Floppy Hair is a teenager, and that is pretty horrific all on its' own.

There are never enough hours in a day and I don't feel I am doing a very good job of managing the ones that are there.

And I'm lonely. Soul-deep lonely.

I'll be better soon. But today I am in a funk.