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12:18 p.m. - 2012-01-10
Silly is as silly does, Miz Gump

Uf dah, definitely time to take a break from the WIP. It's a tough slog to go back to that time. So hurt. So ashamed that my kid wasn't 'right'. I must have done something wrong, you know? All babies start off 100% perfect and it's mom's screw-ups during pregnancy and afterward that cause less than ideal perfect paragon kids, right?

I know! But that was the pounding earworm in my head back then. All day long, "I fucked up! I am at fault!" Of course in those days I also caused floods, earthquakes, pogroms and the cancellation of 'The Golden Girls'. No bad thing could happen anywhere that I couldn't trace it back to me and some miserable shitty selfish choice I'd made. How someone so low and worthless to herself could also be so powerful is a mystery, but such is the beauty of having zero self-esteem.

Anyhoodle, today is Errand Day. As Tuesdays usually are. Nothing too fancy on today's list. The regular stops at the bread store, the Rite-Aid, Wolf's session. After dinner we're going up to B&N and I'm having this Nook thing settled one way or the other. Oy, Mick feels terrible, he thought he was getting me this lovely wonderful present and it's been nothing but a glitchy pain in the patoot. I certainly don't blame him, how can you be angry with someone who only wants to give you the world? And the moon. And any other thing I might ever want?

Take my birthday for instance. (Jan 21st for those playing along at home.) He's got something up his sleeve. Asking mysterious questions. Food selections. Phone numbers. A party? Maybe. An outing to the hibachi restaurant? I don't know. Nothing's beyond this man. It's only my adamant insistance on not taking in anything new that goes poop that's stopped him from buying me an outrageous critter just to make me laugh. A llama or a parrot or a purse puppy. Somesuch thing. I know that technically a Merry Maid goes poop, but she'd clean up after herself, so if Mick wanted to get me one of those I wouldn't say no. *snerk*

Right? A bum with a maid. Hey, Carol Brady didn't have a job and she had live-in help. Of course her house didn't have any toilets either so I'm guessing Bradys don't go poop. Maybe there's some connection there.

Phiffle, enough with the poop. Let's move onto something else. Like peeing. It's on my mind because I'm making asparagus tonight. What is the deal with that anyway? I understand garlic breath. And onion hands. But asparagus pee? WTF?

Now aren't you glad you came by today? Such inspiring deep thoughts. Such profound insights into the human condition. And because I'd already moved on from poop I didn't even get into that thing with corn. Though I do wonder about that too.

Gotta hit the grit. TTFN! ~LA

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