No sleep ’til Brooklyn, my friend.
I learned this week that Promethazine and chardonnay make a good cocktail. Except after the third glass. Then things get a little crazy and a little hazy, but my speech did improve AND my insomnia was cured. So score. Since I was sick this week, I didn’t do much but this and this and a… Read More
Baking calms me. The whole routine is extremely satisfying. Read the recipe, gather all the ingredients, measure and mix, fill the pan, put it into the oven, realize I forgot an ingredient and forgot to grease the pan, take the pan out and dump everything back into the mixing bowl. Fingers crossed that I don’t… Read More
There were more croutons, but I ate them. And some fell on the floor, so I kicked them under the table. When the baby gets up in the middle of the night, I always volunteer to go downstairs and make a bottle. I tell Carl, I’ll hurry and then close the door to the room… Read More
I’ve been singing the praises of my immune system lately because everyone in the house is sick. Except me. While everyone was phlegmy, coughing and sniffling, I was laughing, smiling and whistling. But then Saturday night came and I started looking like Linda Blair in the Exorcist. After taking my temperature (the thermometer read 101°), Carl… Read More
Boogers. It’s all over my clothes. I’ve been using Lysol as a cross and garlic protection from Carl and the baby. Who are vampires sick with the cold from hell (they do sparkle when outdoors during the daytime, however). I’m going to punch the next person who sneezes on me, except for the baby, of course,… Read More
Don’t look at me like that – it’s all your fault, you drooly little monster.
It started out like any morning… Waking up before the alarm went off, turning alarm off, going back to sleep, waking up 20 minutes later, panicking, stressing, changing a poopy diaper, yelling at kids to get their asses up, rushing, throwing whatever hasn’t rotted in the fridge into their lunch bags, getting bottles for the… Read More
Please, baby, just sleep for another 8-10 hours so I can get some shit done and maybe get my drink on, but mainly get some shit done. I wonder if this is how Raymond Burr looked like while he was sleeping