I usually start writing my blog before 5am with my very first thoughts of the morning. My first thought this morning was.... ugh.
There is fluid in my ears so every time I move my head, I hear the ocean. Sidebar... I never realized how much I move my head when I talk. I'm a puppet head.
I have pain behind my left eye that feels like someone is digging around in there... it extends from my eye to my ear.
Both eyes are itchy.
My hair is heavy and not just because it's second day hair.
It's raining outside so every single joint hurts, especially my hands and the dead center of my spine.
It's just not a happy day in the nest. That's why I started with my happy music... Laura Story's song, "Blessings". I usually just skim over youtube videos when people post them on their blog because usually I don't have the patience to listen. But... if one or two of you take the time to listen to this song, I bet it will be the one or two who will really be blessed by this song.
It's also one of those days that has me ready to scream at the tv. Yesterday evening I had to switch off the evening news and watch old episodes of COPS. I just get so incredibly aggravated with politics. FAIR SHARE? REALLY? Nobody agrees on what a fair share of a person's income is... so it was easier for me to watch some poor mullet head from the shallow end of the gene pool get cuffed for playing whack-a-mole with his baby mama. I mean, next to Warren Buffett and his "Buffett Rule" which means he'll go to extremes to avoid paying taxes and then pretend like he's SO committed to taxation to excess that he wants his name attached to a tax.
I just can't talk about it today. I just feel like logic is a gift you're either born with or you aren't. It would be one of those days that some wise guy will pop off with a comment that makes me want to climb thru the screen and put him out of my misery. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE! I'm just glad I didn't make the mistake of dating you. Lord knows I've had my FAIR SHARE of undeserving mates.
I had nightmares all night last night. I dreamed that Darby came back and was two-timing his current commitment with me. Yes, I became the Darby other woman. Never. Ever. In a million years, no matter how bad my judgment becomes will that happen.
I'm really in a foul temper. It doesn't help that every other commercial is for online dating. If you missed my last foray into online dating, check out my blog entries from the end of 2010. Which... was fairly misguided of me if you consider that the carnage that my life had become three years ago was brought to you courtesy of online dating. Even if my odds of meeting Mr. Wonderful are slim to none here in the Nest, I'm willing to risk it. If I have to pick between a man and my cats... I'll take the cats.
Really regretting cancelling my doctors appointment last week. I could have gotten ahead of this sinu-strep-ococcus disease that's turned my head into a slime factory. And not the good kind of slime, either. Slime with no outlet. It just keeps jiggling around in my brain like I'm filled with the stuff inside of Stretch Armstrong. (if you don't know who Stretch Armstrong is, you're too young to be reading my blog)
How do you cheat in a beauty pageant? Fake boobs? They all have 'em. Caps on your teeth? Hair extensions? Spray tan? There are allegations that the new Miss Universe cheated. I don't get it but I'll keep watching Fox and Friends to find out. OH... they're saying she faked her documents. Typical racist crap... if we don't like the BPIC - black person in charge - we attack their legitimacy. Never mind. Attempt at Obama humor.
I start my work day with Fox and Friends and end my work day with the last five minutes of The Five. I love The Five. Bob Beckel cracks me up. I mean ... for a liberal Clinton-ite recovering alcoholic womanizer he's pretty funny. I have love for Dems. Just not their politics.
I offered to take Austin to school today and he declined my offer. It's not POURING rain but it's a steady rain and he has to walk down a dirt road and stand out in the rain to wait for the bus. He's so dedicated to his education. Actually... the truth is... there's a girl involved. But at least his pajama pants match his shirt today. Small favors.
My cats are hilarious... I say, "where did the boy go? there goes your boy... your boy is leaving" and they both shoot to full alert and run/limp to the window to try to catch the last glimpse of him. They love their boy.
Ok. I've bored you long enough. I'll get over the grumps at some point today. Love and hugs, y'all.