Friday, August 22, 2014

getting sick...

So, the pixie caught something from one of the little snot-gobblers that she goes to preschool with last week.  About Tuesday night, I caught it.  I've spent two-thirds of the first week back to class sick.  And that can fuck off.

Here's hoping I don't lose my voice next week.  

Friday, August 15, 2014

forgetting things while you're out...

So, this morning, I don't have much.  The imp started kindergarten yesterday, and the pixie started preschool this morning.  We went to Walmart for a couple of things, then decided we were going to go to Sam's Club...then totally forgot to go to Sam's Club, and had to backtrack after we'd gotten 90% of the way home.

Took almost forty minutes off my planned cleaning-without-kids-underfoot time. 

Being forgetful can fuck off.

Friday, August 8, 2014

I can't rant.

My rage-o-meter has pegged out past red because of happenings in a friend's life, recently.  I just can't work up much of a head of steamed to be able to write out profanity-laced rants over politicians "losing" money, or wasting money, or about the "Affordable" Care Act, or about anything else, really.  I've been angry about the current situation since late May, and I'm just...tired.  Numbed.  Exhausted by the level of anger* I've maintained for months. 

Have at it.  Tell the world what has made your week suck.  I'm signing off, and gonna go write.

*Anger which has been enhanced by constant dick moves made by the emotionally abusive party in the situation.  The party who fled the state and started the whole fucking mess, and who has continued to attempt to manipulate, prod, and abuse the party who didn't flee the state in an attempt to gain justification of their lovingly-maintained one-sided narrative that their victim is actually the abuser.

Friday, July 25, 2014

*cough, choke, cough*

I'm better, but this lingering bit of chest congestion can fuck the fucking fuck off.  With knobs.  And cheese.

Friday, July 18, 2014

ugh.

This bloody chest cold can fuck the fucking fuck off.  My ribs and abs are killing me from the constant hacking and coughing. 

Friday, July 11, 2014

Cancer.

My cousin has breast cancer.  Had a mastectomy.  Her oncologist said they didn't get it all, and that she's at stage 1.  That can fuck off with a rusty chainsaw.

A good friend has stage 3 or 4 inflammatory breast cancer.  Her doctors didn't catch it very quickly, because she was breastfeeding at the time, and they thought the initial symptoms were either mastitis, or blocked ducts.  She's had four months of chemo, and they said she needs three more before they can attempt a mastectomy to try to get it under control.

That kind of cancer has a 34% chance of not recurring within five years. 

And that kind of cancer can chainsawdomize itself with a rusty chainsaw.

Friday, June 27, 2014

...

I actually put writing this in my to-do list for this morning, and still forgot it. 

That can ftfo.