Oh Run-A Oh Run-A Oh Runaway...Please Come Home

Sometimes being a grownup sucks, in that you have to be dependable and productive and remember stuff and correct your elders and try not be too shaken up when your child tells you he had a dream where you DIED.

My posts have dropped off as of late because I'm hella busy with just everything.

Well, not everything, as I'm sure that would involve a mishmash of flooring tiles, pastry tubes, the collected works of Neil Diamond, ear wax, runny eggs, and chads.

I've been busy with work, which is bustin' my ass because our marketing department is made up of morons...no, scratch that...our marketing department is made up of lobotomized sewer rats who think the company president's ass tastes reeeeeeeeal good, just like chickin'. Meanwhile, they have no new ideas, are beating the old ones to frickin' death, and are surprised when our company profits fall like my panties used to at frat parties. (uh, that's a LOT, for those of you who didn't go to college with me. I'm exaggerating. No I'm not.)

I've been busy with this Kindergarten Panel, which I (stupidly?) volunteered to be on, to figure out once and for all (or at least until next year when parents bitch) the value of full-day vs. half-day kindergarten. The other folks on this panel are old, retired, couldn't give a dingleberry what happens, just want to recount the 'good old days' before they retired from the school system, before dinosaurs took up smoking and offed themselves. I'm doing the bulk of the work, the research, the phone calls, the emails, the pavement-pounding, the surveys, because the rest of them don't fcuking care. Which makes me want to hit them soundly with a sock full of pennies, except for one lady that is actually on my side, but is a fence-sitter.

I've been busy with school parties.
Work fund-raisers.
Parent-teacher conferences.
School half-days.
Two kids with dance and taekwondo and birthday parties to attend and homework to finish.
A house.
A Sergei.
And I have to sleep sometimes. But not much.

I've had a cold for 2 months, a leaky eye for 4 months, and have experienced 3 'tingly-arms' episodes in the last week that either means my new thyroid medicine is freaking out my body, or I'm going through early menopause, both of which make me want to open my yap and scream "FUCKBITCHCUNTDYKECOCKJESUSFUCKINGCHRIST" at the top of my lungs...at my body.

My diet is in the crapper, because I forget to eat, and then the only reason I remember is that I start to pass out, and then I reach for quick sugar, in the form of candy. I managed a salad this week. I had pizza tonight. I can now give myself a 'Pillsbury Doughboy Poke', but I don't giggle.

Lately caffeine has been pushing me over the edge, after one cuppa coffee.

I've not followed up on Mona's Orgasm, my Poetry Friday is now Crap Friday, I've been through several Fantasy Boyfriends and not told you anything about them, my blog links aren't up to date, I have little time to read blogs and littler time to comment, and I'm a spotty poster, an unfunny, un-boobie-posting, un-smut-talking blogger.

But.

I still have dirty dreams about you. Does that help?