- I must have been really bad last year, because Santa brought the kids guinea pigs.
- Yes, yes, I realize “Santa” is me, but I’d rather not take responsibility for the presence of those two animals in my house. Let’s call it a temporary bout with Multiple Personality Disorder, wherein I became a person only interested in fulfilling the dreams of youngsters. Blinded by this mission, I make stupid decisions and wonder how it happened.
- More on that in my next post. Was going to write the story here but realized it would take up the whole thing, which wouldn’t leave room for my flurry of irrelevant, disconnected thoughts. Which are obviously critical.
- I feel kind of weird right now. Maybe it’s that I’ve been changing the way I eat. And I’ve been exercising. Weird. It’s not really a New Year’s Resolution. It’s more just a “I’m tired of feeling like shit all the time and I’m ready to feel differently but I couldn’t do anything before Christmas so I’m doing it now” type thing. I think I also don’t really know what exactly to do with myself after the insanity of last semester. I was just rushing and rushing for so long and now things are a little calmer and I’m feeling a little lost. Whatever, it happens. Then it passes.
- On Friday I found a plastic cup in the freezer full of frozen water. In that frozen water were a variety of Legos, mostly the heads and arms of men, signaling to me that Rocket had been experimenting. I then went to the computer and wrote in the homeschool record “studied the physical properties of water.”
- Yeah, so that’s pretty much how homeschool is going.
- Another winning area of my life is home organization. My house is so fucking thrashed I’m considering moving out. Just leaving. But I can’t afford that, so instead I’ve started throwing and giving away things, pretty much at random. I feel a pang of sad, like “Oh, I like that.” Or “Oh, I may need that.” But then I remember that every item preserved is an item to be dealt with, and I chuck that shit. I also ask myself if I’m going to care when I’m 89 and dying that I didn’t keep that one candle holder that is just so cute.
- Doubt it. I’ll be too busy demanding morphine and pissing off my relatives.
- Speaking of pain, a good part of my life is now devoted to ensuring Georgia doesn’t kill herself. Last week she: 1) fell out the back door; 2.) tripped on a toy and hit the wall; and 3.) crashed into a bush for reasons still unknown. The result was three scrapes on her head.
- I just kind of want her to stop moving. At least not so much, and so unpredictably. And so rapidly. Just kinda mellow a little. Take it down a notch.
- And this, my friends, is her new perch. Yeah. I know. Not safe. But you try keeping her off of it. Shiiiit. And yes, she’s up there so often I just feed her there now.
I believe the word you’re looking for here is “winning.”
Have a great week.