It's 11:45 am, and I've only been up for an hour an a half. Supposed to go meet the hubby up at Fisherman's Village Apartments for some lunchtime action. Only a 5 minute drive away. I look forward to meeting and seeing him in all his working glory, but at the same time I cringe at the thought of trying to get the humble abode in order in 20 minutes flat....especially when I still haven't recovered from that icky/hungover groggy feeling that one usually gets when they first wake up. I loathe brushing my daughter's Rapunzel length hair when under these conditions. It's comparable to trying to waitress while drunk. Rude, ungrateful people, criticizing your every effort, while you try unabatedly to stand up straight and tell everyone to "Shut the fuck up and piss off". I hate the "employed" ideal. There are days that I thank the Lord almighty up above that I am a stay at home mom, believe it or not. I also throw in a quick "sacrifice of praise" for being sober and clean these days too. I don't know where I'd be if I didn't ever learn to put down the 40 and pay the fuck attention to what people were saying.
So you see, I like my new blogger layout, but I don't know how to enable comments with this new format, which isn't really too big a deal, considering I've gotten a total of 1(one)yep...ONE!!) fucking comment the whole 2 - 3 years I've been on this thing. Sorta my fault though, I was pretty private in going into all of this, and didn't post SHITE for like a year straight. When I DID finally start posting, I received an anonymous comment, which did wonders for my self esteem, and even more for my desire to continue writing. But alas, I'm not here to fish for compliments, it was more meant for an outlet for my squabblish writing, when I didn't have the ballz to post what I was REALLY feeling on my Myspace blog. I have a small handful of people that read my juh-nk there, and I thought this would be a good escape route for all the steam I need to let out every once in a while. Not a soul knows about this "secret blog", except muh nun of a therapist, and me. (and the people who might possibly cruise through here unknowingly. Nobody I know personally, that's fo' sho')
But I like having this....It feels safe.
So if anyone DOES saunter through these dreary halls, I can take complete comfort in knowing that I don't know who the fuck you are, and essentially, neither do you know who the fuck I am. It's symbiotic, you see????