On my way to losing a marathon!

Thursday, August 2, 2012

This is the grumpiest one on the internets. Ever.

I cannot trust myself today.

My back hurts even worse, putting any weight on my right foot is killing me.  So I skipped my morning run.  I am outrageously exhausted but I cannot nap because I am responsible for two other humans' lives.  Stupid tiny humans, can't take care of their own dang lives.

Oh, and I really can't trust my own life decisions.  And everything is going bad. badly. poorly?  Grammar is a worthless freaking endeavor.  Whatever.  The idea is that all things suck right now.

I keep trying to clean the house, but mostly it's not going well.  I'm too tired for this.

I got an idea for a book and I wrote about half a page and then decided to change my life's goals.

I saw this little toddler skirt on Pinterest (I hate Pinterest) and now I want to make it, but the last craft I worked on still looks like this:
And a whole skirt sounds a lot more complicated and a lot harder to finish.

I hate Pinterest because everything on there is so stupid cute it's pissing me off.  Also, people keep posting pictures of outrageously decadent dessert type things that I will probably never ever be able to eat again in my life and it's pissing me off.  And yesterday, my client's dad left the Food Network on while I worked and every different chef-person made stuff with chocolate and Paula Dean has an annoying accent and she really shouldn't be eating those donuts either diabetesthankyouverymuch and it's all PISSING ME OFF.

Oh, and that thing it my mouth.  It's a plum.  I have been really afraid of the kitchen today, because in this mood, I'm at "Code Red: Will probably eat everything in the kitchen, including the sink" today, and I've been afraid to eat.  So until noon I wouldn't let myself have anything except for coffee because my relationship with the fridge is a lot like other people's relationship with a can of Pringles.  But at noon I decided to risk it and I ate a plum.  Fruit is nice because it comes in pre-packaged single serving units.

My lunch is the pits.

Oh, and last night, when I was telling my daughter goodnight, my husband corrected my grammar, because he really likes getting sneak-attack-punched-in-the-face, it seems.  Because otherwise, why the bloody h-e-l-l would you correct your exhausted and cranky wife's grammar? Huh? HUH??

I guess I'm done for now.  I'll just go and watch some "Hoo-Man" (no idea why that's easier to say than He-Man, but there you have it) with my daughter.

Anyone ever notice how snotty and pretentious that guy sounds?  Geez, count me in for Team Skeletor.

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