(no subject)
So that's me double fisting the wine with Michael. The picture was taken May 19. Now he's in ICU and his family were all "yay! He was awake and lucid for a whole hour today! He held a pen!!"
I'm sorry, what?? How did we go from the picture of health a month ago to celebrating the fact that he could hold a pen? Can it really happen that fast?
Christ my insides are all kinds of stupid over this.
It certainly doesn't help that I got a sinus infection that turned into bronchitis this week. I've got inhalers and antibiotics up the yin yang but of course every cough is me one step close to the hospice.
I seriously need to get out more. Or something. I love these kids retarded and I had them by choice and they are fantastically fun but I am fucking old or something because I just can't seem to get it together where I have fun with them and still do all the grown up work stuff I have to and then find the energy to go anywhere or do anything else. This weekend my MIL actually came and took them for an overnighter and I had all these grand plans of socializing and organizing and being like seismically fantastic.
Instead my meds wiped me out so I went to bed early and slept until noon. NOON! Oh, such slothful bliss. By then the kids were back and my house remains an unorganized undecorated mess. Took the boys to an end of school bbq one of the other parents threw and jeesiz I am doing life wrong. You should see the epic size of this house! And there's no dad around that I can see, no pictures of him, no wedding ring, everything is just her and the 2 kids. And how the shit did she buy herself a million dollar home?? Wow. Not that I want or need a million dollar home, frankly that's way more cleaning and organizing than I could comprehend. But of course she had an interior designer come in and decorate the place and she has a nanny and A DRIVER for the kids. A driver? For the kids?? Fuck can you loan him out for vodka nights or what lady?
So whatever, Michael can barely hold a pen and we're all going to die and I'm doing life wrong anyways so I was all kinds of melancholy mopey. I miss girls nights. I miss Fratboy cuz he's always working. I miss going out and I miss fun staying in and blah blah blah. So instead I went upstairs and challenged the boys to a tickle fight. Yes an hour after their bedtime. Fucking sue me. So we tackled and tickled and tossed and it was just so perfect. I know how lucky I am to be goofing around in their bedroom instead of struggling to hold a pen.
It's just fuck all these FEELINGS. They're damned inconvenient and irrational and they're keeping me from doing far more useful things with my life like decorating and organizing. Or learning how to suck a dick spectacularly enough to be able to pay for a car and driver.
Or something.
So jeesuz it's the last week of school. Sammi's wedding is in 6 days!! We have the kids in day camp for the summer but not one fucking clue who's going to watch them in September. Great Wolf Lodge is a mere few weeks away, so is Staycation 2012 and our next wedding. Father's Day sucked without George and there was no way to make it better for Fratboy. Work rocks. I still owe Fitzy a birthday letter. Shit, did we file our taxes this year?
Me go lie down now.
You good?