I just can't take it anymore. Day in and day out bloodshed, carnage and battles with no clear winner. The toll that this is taking on my home is more than I care to consider. It's often difficult to pull myself out of bed in the morning as I think about the angry barrage that awaits me. I daydream about a peaceful, quiet space to enjoy my thoughts free of aggression. These insidious aggressors sit right at my breakfast table with me. Every morning. They are there at lunch and dinner too. I truly get no break from them in between meals either. Oh summertime, when will you end? When will my adorable little children return to the ordered discipline of school? When will I be free of their consistently constant fighting?
In a world where cheesecake is given freely, chocolate reigns supreme and french vanilla cappuccino is always on tap....A lone woman must make her way...well..alone. She must fight for equality with her thinner counterparts. She must say no to a second helping. She must battle the time tested habits that cause her to crave what is bad for her. Will she succeed? Or will the dark forces of Ben & Jerry's and Little Debbie unite to thwart her? Nightmare Thighs coming soon to a theater near you!
Have you ever heard the saying "All women are either a little crazy all the time or completely crazy some of the time"? There are certain days that make me realize in full force that I am sometimes completely crazy. Today just so happens to be one of those days. Right before my husband left for work this morning, he mentioned that he had to go change his socks. He was wearing black socks and needed khaki socks. I told him to grab a pair of the new khaki socks I just bought him. He said he couldn't wear them until they were washed and chose another pair. He wasn't rude in any way. He didn't attempt to point out any shortcomings on my part regarding the laundry. However, I felt royally ticked off. I was ready to hold him down and forcibly put the new socks on his feet. After he left, I pictured myself washing the socks for him and when he got home smacking him with them and saying, "Here are your freshly laundered socks you (insert expletive here)". It was then that I should have realized that I'm a bit moody today and that PMS is ruling my brain. However, I didn't.
The next person to earn my unreasonable, water-detention driven, scorn was John McCain's wife. The poor, unsuspecting woman just happened to be appearing on my morning news. The audacity! I decided immediately that I really, really don't like her. I believe I used the word "bimbo" at some point.
Okay, now I am completely cognisant of my current state. I'm a nut today. The elevator isn't going all the way up. I'm probably psycho ward worthy. At least until this PMS is over. In a day or two...I bet my family can't wait...and Cindy McCain...I guess I'll owe her a big apology...I guess, but don't you think she looks kind of like a bleached blond bimbo who's young enough to be McCain's granddaughter? I'm just saying...
I do not like lawn ornaments. Let me rephrase that: I despise lawn ornaments. Why would anyone want a statue of a little boy peeing or a deer frozen in flight from a hunter (those are really morbid). Actually I can almost see some rhyme or reason to some lawn ornamentation. For instance, if you are into flashing, it only makes sense to have a wood cutout of a pioneer woman bent over with her frilly undies showing. After all, you're just being honest with people and simultaneously warning them not to look when you call out. That I can respect. The yards that have so much chaos going on that you can't figure out what's up or down, are okay too. For instance, if you see a duck followed by two goldfish, an elf holding a carrot, a gnome glaring with sharp teeth, a statue of Mary, half a nativity scene, and a ceramic basket filled with garden globes and plastic poinsettias in June, you know that the home is owned by someone with either mild dementia or schizophrenia. Either way, they have a right to their eclectic lawn ornaments.
All that being said, the rest of you have no excuse. When you're walking around the garden center at Lowe's and your spouse says something to you about how cute the naked cherub fountain with the wheelbarrow attached is, you must stop them. It's a matter of common human decency really. Just think of all the unsuspecting people that your spouse will invite over to view the cherub monstrosity. "See how the water squirts from the cherubs ears into the wheelbarrow? Don't you think it's just darling?". These words should never be spoken. No, not ever. It's cruel really. What if your spouse decides to put the cherub fountain in the front yard? I can hardly bear to think of the poor people driving by who will have to see the thing. Some maybe on their daily commute. Now that is just wrong.
So, in the interest of public decency and environmental responsibility, I've come up with an idea. If a person feels so compelled to posses a lawn ornament that they cannot physically restrain themselves, they should gather together all the used Styrofoam cups that they can find and build their own lawn ornaments out of them. Since we know that Styrofoam doesn't break down in land fills (at least for a few hundred years or so - no, I won't be around to check these figures), they can go hog wild in their front (and back) yard with their creativity. When the rest of us are forced to set eyes on their little piece of heaven, we can at least praise the person for saving the planet before we have to fight back the waves of nausea.
Quick! How many minutes does it take for my 4 year old to "wear in" his new bicycle helmet? Exactly 46 minutes after arriving home with the aforementioned bike helmet, he managed to tumbled off his brother's bike right on his head. Safety equipment is put to very good use in my home. Don't even get me started on safety glasses. We keep a pair in every room.
Next question: How long does it take me to dump coffee down the front of my white t-shirt first thing in the morning? Exactly 23 seconds after I start to dance around to the Jazzercise music on the morning show. Good grief, you'd think after 34 years of living in this "way less than graceful in fact beyond clumsy" body, I would have learned. If there is something to trip on in any given room I happen to be walking through, I will find it. In fact, I've been known to trip on thin air. I've also run headfirst into my fair share of poles. Why the heck do they have to stick those things in the middle of large rooms anyway? I mean aside from holding up the frame of the building and everything...
Final question: How long does it take me to succumb to the temptation of chocolate cookies in the cupboard that I bought for hubby and kids when I'm supposed to be snacking on yummy radishes today? I'll get back to you on this one :)
I could barely sleep last night because I kept waking up from dreaming about my book idea. I'm excited and also worried and a bit intimidated. Even if this book is written just for me: it's worth the journey. I love these characters. I KNOW these characters. I will start writing today on the computer in the study. I feel a bit like Chevy Chase in Funny Farm going on and on about his poker buddies book. LOL I definitely hope that my outcome is better than his!
I just can't help myself. The more serious the situation, the more likely some stray silly thought will occur to me. I can't stand to be around overly pompous, conceited, stuffy people. As a result, my subconscious seems to work overtime to find ways to allow me to vent. For example, in the middle of a hell and brimstone sermon from a red faced minister, I can easily picture the guy sneaking off to a gay bar in drag on Saturday nights. Do you know how hard it is to stifle a giggle at that point? Rather than concentrate on what he's saying, I find myself pondering whether he remembered to change out of his frilly underwear for church. Yes, the world of Angela is a silly (and strange) place. But I like it here :)