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at 2005-06-30 around 8:13 a.m.

Home, day two (and a half).

The kids are at daycare because I already paid for them to be there full time this week, and NINE HOURS IN A QUIET HOUSE. This is awesome. If I were a rational human, I would use this time to do laundry, or clean the bathtub, or try to get those nasty orange stains out of my toilet bowl. But, well, you know, I'm not. Rational. Not rational. Not even a little bit, actually. These past few days I've been a little hysterically happy, if you must know. It's a happy that's just right on the edge of being balls-to-the-wall nuts. I don't even know if happy is the word. Apprehensive, yes. Glad I'm not typing this from underneath a flickery fluorescent light, yes. Terrified, absofuckinglutely. I really hope Nick is ready to be the breadwinner. It's his turn.

Woo hoo, it's really weird to just sit here and think that someone else will take care of things. I never pegged myself as a control freak, but can a get a little hysterical laughter right now? Ha ha ha ha oh fuck me what am I doing? I'll work part time. I'll do that sampling-in-the-grocery-store gig that I keep getting offered. Except no, wait, I did that once in high school and it sucked balls. I could go work at Target! No, I would spend my entire paycheck before I walked out the door. I'll find something. Something that isn't Fuckface Insurance. Something part time so I can have my kids home, but still bring them to preschool. Just not all day. Wow. It's fucking weird to type everything you think. Makes one look a bit unbalanced, no?

Nick worked in Indiana yesterday and didn't finish the job, so the whole crew stayed out there last night instead of coming home. He claims that they just got some beer and sat in the hotel, but since I know that the last time they hotelled it they started a fire in a strip club and stole six TV's from the hotel, I was a bit worried. He seemed pretty coherent this morning when he called to ask me why I wasn't at work, so maybe they really did stay there. I hope so. I don't need any more TV's.

I didn't even call work this morning. I just didn't go. The fan on my air conditioner sounds like the phone ringing. It's really jangling my nerves. I'm out of xanax. I'M OUT OF XANAX. I'm never getting any more because I get them from DMIL. I'll have to go to my neurologist and beg. I've got the herbal stuff, but that just makes me woozy and I'm not going for woozy. I've still got some of that stuff but there's no way I'm taking that alone. Guh. That fucking cat is trying to tell me something and I don't know what. Probably wants me to clean her litter box. Gross. I hate animals.

I should really just stop right now. OH MY GOD I DON'T HAVE A JOB.

Kids are: Silence. FUCKING RINGING SILENCE.

Last person who pissed me off: Still DMIL.

Heard in my house: NOTHING! It's so FUCKING QUIET IN HERE!

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Miss Anything?

pics - 2007-06-05
I said I'd update again, but I didn't promise substance - 2007-06-04
I said I'd update again, but I didn' - 2007-06-04
the short version - 2007-05-30
title this - 2007-04-14

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