Platitude Paradise

I feel hollow. Not sure of how else to describe it... Empty Void Vacuous All I seem to want to do is eat... or sleep... but mostly eat. It is so strange to be so intimately aware of this particular pathos of mine. The awareness doesn't do much to deter the urge, however. I want to numb. Even more than usual. There are no obvious reasons. I'm just stuck on my back in a deep rut... way down in the doldrums. My spouse threw a hissy fit because I failed to praise his contribution to the household the other day. He had mopped the floors and I did not notice.  Full on hissy fit ~ Thrown. Sexy, that. Seriously, dude! Are you freakin' kidding me? Do you have the first clue how much shit I do around our home? Please don't misunderstand, I appreciated it immensely. Clearly, I have been negligent in my duties around major jobs like mopping. I have been stymied by a headache that will not let go. Mopping and vacuuming have be

Today has been a bust of a day. Got up this morning and took my hubs to the airport.  I have a small infestation of teenage girls at present. They will be spending the night, with Shorty. I'm currently in my second hour of regretting this idea. I miss my husband on Sundays. He's been working them more and more of late. I don't mind him being gone any other night of the work week, but my weekends are sacred to me. I am never happy when he has to go on a weekend night. This was Shorty's birthday weekend. I have been hemorrhaging money for the past three fricken days... and we haven't even done the bloody gift yet. We went out to dinner last night at a diner she loves, pizza and ice cream cake tonight - on top of candy, chips and pop for the friends...  Suhweet JEZUS it is expensive to do everything! On the upside, with Hubs being away for so long, it has created an opportunity for us to get a couple of nights away, together. I'm flying to

I know it's a cliché, but I'm worried about my worry wart... my youngest child. Her birthday is coming up this weekend and she was all gung-ho for a pair of guinea pigs. My husband, being the bo bo that he is, got the idea in her head and it blossomed into reality from there. Her argument for her case was strong. She pointed out how responsible she was, how much they would bring into her life... and ultimately, I caved. Not that I'm ever a hard sell for an animal... Fast forward to last night. She tried to bring something up a few times only to stop herself. Finally she came out with it: "Mom... I don't think I can handle getting the piggies." and with that statement, she burst into tears. My first reaction was relief... followed immediately by concern. Why is this kid so worried all the time? Her reasons for not wanting to have them are varied and encompass any number of themes: Too much work, too much cost, they will take up too much

I fucked up my back. Then I went ahead and had me some sex last night ... even though I had already fucked up my back ... and I fucked up my back even more. Sigh. Out of commission today. Like right out. I was planning to make a chili today, so my hubs and oldest both have something hearty to eat. My youngest is not a fan... but then she's a tough one to please anyway. I am not making anything. I've had a bath and taken everything I can take... I'm propped up on the hardest couch in the house... And my back is still screaming. Public Service Message... take care of your backs, boys and girls. Hubs is headed out to work tonight, so I'm on my own. Sigh... I'm super bummed. I have been in wicked pain for weeks... and I'm talking six weeks, tomorrow. First my head, now my back. Is not good for one's overall countenance. I won't be winning "Miss Congeniality" any time soon. Grrrowlll D-Out