Hi. I haven’t written anything in a while. Maybe you’ve noticed. Probably you haven’t. Whatever. I guess I should be more concerned about that, or more apologetic for my absence, or more… well, something, but the truth is I’m in the middle of a big, ugly, funky FUNK right now and we’re probably ALL better off with me NOT writing anything while I’m trapped in the mud. Unless you’re really into mood swings and passive-aggression and weird shit that makes no sense at all, it would do you no good to read anything from me at the moment. And the fact that I just spent ten minutes contemplating whether it’s “passive-aggression” or “passion-aggression” only supports my point.
Honestly, I probably shouldn’t even be writing THIS but BlogHer is an asshole and tells me that I have to post something every two weeks or else they’ll stop paying me that exorbitant 35 bucks I get every THREE FUCKING MONTHS and hey! We wouldn’t want that to happen! How would I pay my mortgage? Feed my family? I mean, REALLY! Christmas is coming!
Did I mention I’m a sarcastic bitch lately?
So yeah, I’m kind of on a tear at the moment and this might be a good time to warn you not to fuck with me unless you want to get punched in the vagina. Well okay, I probably won’t *actually* punch you in the vagina, but in my head I will imagine it and enjoy it very much. In reality I’ll probably just shoot death rays at you with my eyes and make lots of wishes involving your immediate humiliation and possibly violent demise. So take heed.
Also, I would like to apologize to anyone who’s seen my toes this week. I know they’re really janky and I have no business going anywhere in sandals or other toe-exposing footwear but September or not, it’s still a thousand degrees (with 250% humidity) here in the fiery armpit of hell we like to call “Texas” and my poor, janky little piggies need to BREATHE, y’all. I’ve just been too lazy and cheap (still waiting on my 35 bucks, FUCKERS) to get them de-janked, plus there was that unfortunate incident of late that involved (A) an unsuspecting pedicurist, (ii) my tickle reflex and (3) a swift kick to the head, which has forced me to lie low for a while.
Lie low? Lay low? Fuck.
I’m tired. Summer has been grand but it’s worn my shit CLEAN OUT and all I want to do right now is hide in a dark room with some mind-numbing TV and ice cream sandwiches. But I CAN’T hide because I have a job that likes it when I show up and a kid who’s burning the energy of a thousand suns and a house that doesn’t clean itself (note: learned the hard way) and a husband who’d very much like to have his happy wife back and a life – a life that might not be perfect but it’s mine, and as shitty as I feel right now I’m also aware of what a bad idea it would be for me to totally fuck it up by being selfish and lazy and sad for no reason.
Hey, Depression? Suck my dick.