Saturday, October 2, 2010


I am starting to really worry about money.  Which therefore means I am not sleeping worth a fuck and my neck and shoulders are killing me.  And because I spend the better part, if not all, of my working days on my feet?  My back and feet are also killing me.  Which again does not help with the sleep.  I also have a bitch of a time with sciatica and my hip is killing me.

I'm aware of how much I sound like the senior citizens I proclaim to 'hate' anytime I have to drive somewhere in this city overrun by them.  Keep in mind my affinity for grape flavoured vodka, Sublime and Jax from Sons of Anarchy.  I'm hoping this speaks to my innate bad-assed-ness. 

All of this on top of my three year old's nightly jaunt to our bed is wearing me down.  I worked at 6 a.m. today and when I spoke to my husband around 9 a.m. and told him how I had to go sleep in another bed last night, due to said three year old's intrusion, his reply was "you should've taken him back to bed".  Thanks Tips.  Number one, he'll just come back.  Number two, it's warm in the bed and whether I am sleeping or not, I don't want to get out of bed.  Number three, that kid is incredibly cute when he's sleeping and I like to snuggle him.

Number 4:  Maybe, one time, you could fucking wake up and take him back to bed.  Maybe.  You think?

Nope.  My husband is blessed with the gift of sleep.  A knack for it really.  For the sleeping, for radiating an obscene amount of heat while doing so, and on occasion, gas; and then there is the fucking snoring which would wake anyone and anything except for him, apparently.

He says I snore.  I beg to differ; if I do snore, I'm sure it's a sound akin to that of kittens purring.  Soothing and sweet.

My husband would like to maybe go out tonight.  I've been up, officially, since 5 a.m. but didn't really sleep between roughly 2:30 a.m. and 4 a.m.  I had to get up and go sleep in our daughter's bed.  She was gone for the night.  She has this funky green shag sort of blanket. It's fuzzy on one side and smooth satin-y material on the other side. The smooth satin-y bit is the part that's against one's body when sleeping. Or in my case, the smooth satin-y part is what my sandpaper like heels caught on about 17 times when I was trying to get settled.

All in all, I just want to sum this up with saying I've never felt more alive, sexy and energetic in all my days.  There is nothing more I'd rather do than go out tonight.  There is no way I'd rather just stay put here in my elastic-waisted pants, with a blanket and copious amounts of junk food...Nope. Nuh-uh. Not me.

Bring on the party.



  1. Funny. True. I can relate.
    I never go to work at 6 though, I could, but I don't. That would be really hard.
    The heel thing though? I can relate.
    Snoring from others and kids waking me up? So real. Kids coming in at 3 a.m.? This wakes me up too.
    The desire to stay home with your elastic waist pants! YES!

  2. Ha! That last bit cracked me up!

    And I'm so thankful that I got the wonderful gene that helps me sleep like a baby through the night. Andy says it pisses him off that I sleep straight through the dogs crying in the mornings which means he has to get out of bed and let them out.



  3. I like your "Driven" intro on your page:

    "I refuse to be told what I can and can't write about so here it goes..Most important of all, it's mine."

    That's exactly how I feel about writing on my blog. My blog, my writing, my business. Someone recently told me I cuss too much, and that pissed me off, but I found myself re-reading some of my stuff. I don't cuss too much.....I cuss just right.

    Enjoy your blogs........and I'm a old person!


  4. I leave all the money worries to my sportsman.
    I am a very optimistic person. I cant be worried about such things.

    I only want the good times.

  5. Ah, I am late in replying...Anonymous; I believe elastic pants are the wave of the future. My future at least. The only think I really look forward to in relation to aging is getting away with monochromatic outfits emblazoned with wildlife and floral prints complete with an elastic waist.

    Sara, fuck you. Just kidding. Kind of. Until about maybe my mid-twenties I slept like a baby. Now it's hit and miss. So yeah, fuck you. But don't forget I really like you too. It's complicated.

    Hi Terri, welcome! I'm sure you are not an old person. I'm talking senior, as in 70+ when I vent about my senior 'friends'. And if you do fall into that age range, you are an exception to the rule because you are very obviously cool.

    SoccerMom; you and me both about the good times but I have trouble shutting down the worrying...