I had one of those blogging brainbombs. I *had* been writing a letter to my eighteen year old self, but man that was weirrrrd. It was hard enough living it the first time, but going through is what made me the batshit crazy strong woman you see before you today.
In other (not-so) surprising news, I woke up headachy and downright grouchy. Snarl at the boys grouchy – even though they’re doing nothing more than Being Themselves. What can I say, it’s starting out as one of THOSE days.
(Ask Holly about my snarls. I’m scary.)
….okay I’m back. I took a shower and sucked down a cup of coffee. And realized that asleep at 1am and awake at 645 makes for a piss-poor attitude.
My Sainted Mama wished me a happy birthday. I popped her the Buddy Christ pose (seen here) and said “Thanks for letting the Dr. pull me out, Ma!”
Her reply? “Feet first!”
Yes, it’s true, I’ve been walkin all over her since the day I was born. *smirks*
My plans for the day include loafing, lazing, and generally being sluggish.
You believe that, right?
SCARY snarling…SCARY