So one chokes the shit out of me and the other gets stuck in the pockets of flesh in the back of my throat. I may just start taking the Flinstone chewables I bought for N.
*******
I can't stop throwing tantrums when I don't get my way. In 20 years it's going to be real sad to see a 54-year-old woman kicking and screaming because the books she ordered online took more than 10 business days to reach her door. Real sad.
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I've had like three people ask me if I'm OK with my ex getting married so here's the deal, straight up, from the heart: he and I were NOT meant to stay together and splitting up was the best decision we ever made. I have no desire to be his wife or girlfriend or anything like that. Only thing that makes me a tad green is that he found someone before I did... as if we were competing or something... because I feel like it speaks volumes on why we split, i.e.- IT WAS ALL MY FAULT. And who wants to believe a break up was their own fault??
*******
I'm still looking for a wife; someone to come to my apartment and do all the domestic shit I don't want to do. I mean, yeah, I could have K & N do it, but they suck at house work! In return for the household services and running basic errands, I'm willing to offer my writing/editing services and/or home-cooked meals and baked goods, plus the occasional free book and hair styling to said potential wife. I promise you wouldn't have to wash my undies (cause ewwww, who's wash someone else's undies??) or N's socks. Hit me up in the comments if you want the gig.
*******
I don't want anything happening anywhere near my butt:
I swear to GOD somebody will be stabbed to death and then some if they even attempt it with me. You've been warned.
*******
I would gladly give up many of my worldly possessions for a great-paying writing-related gig that didn't require me to work from 9-5. I'm too much of a free spirit to be confined to business hours. I know that no matter if I leave my PR gig and find another, I'll grow to hate that one, too, because they'll have all these stupid rules about hours and vacation days and AAAAACCCKKKKK!!!! When did we become so married to business hours?? That's NOT how our natural body clocks work. Can't we see how we're killing ourselves??
*******
I miss all my old dolls and stuffed animals. I had them in storage after I left The Waco School for Girls, and by the time I went to pick them up they smelled funny. Moldy or something. So to be on the safe side I had to toss them out. My baby Sha-Sha, my Cabbage Patch Kids Felix Johnny (who still kinda smelled like baby powder... CPKs used to all smell like baby powder... like real babies) and Regan Kristi and the stuffed elephant that used to share my crib, Elly. My mom made that elephant for me. It hurt to death to throw them out.
Maybe that's why I feel so empty? Because all of my childhood "friends" are now in a landfill in VA somewhere?
*smooches...happy to set some of my thoughts free*
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I can't tell you how many of these random things fly around my head and keep me up at night...
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