Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Tetched in tha hed

I’m losin’ it, folks, I’m really losing it.

My head, that is.

My sanity, too, like it’s on a long dog leash and rounded the corner and not quite sure if it’s still there.

I took some days off work, and days off blogging, to be with the kids in the changeover from end-of-school-year to beginning-of-summer-day-camps, the days of which were wonderful and fun and now I’m peeved that I didn’t discover my love for elementary school librarianism sooner so I could have summers off daaaaammit.

Came back to work yesterday to find piles, literally steaming oozing piles, of projects on my desk. And 300 emails. Oh, and that our illustrious systems manager FORGOT to renew our company’s domain name last week so EVERYTHING GOT SCREWED UP, including emails. The boss is breathing down our collective necks, we need like hell to hire a new programmer, and my energy level is nil…less than nil, I’m in negative energy.

So I’m giving you a list.

1) NIL. I mean NIL. Had a blood test yesterday to check on the ol’ thyroid, this morning my dr. office said the levels were ‘within normal range’. Whatever the hell that means. But I still feel like excrement…exhausted, forgetful, depressed, bloated, constipated, cold (what a sex goddess!!) I found a website that said lab numbers don’t mean much unless you find the levels that are optimal for you. It’s like saying the range of heights for a 30-year old man are 5’3” to 6’4”, with weights between 130 and 220. But if you have a man 5’3” and 220 pounds, or a man 6’4” and 130 pounds, even though they’re within the ranges, they aren’t optimal. I need to find an endocrinologist. This depression I’ve found myself in must be stopped.

2) I try not to swear too much around the kids. But still. When someone cuts me off on the road, I’ll let ‘em have it. Boy-child told me a couple nights ago that it makes him nervous when I swear, and could I please stop. Sigh. My one vice. My ONLY vice. Fack. So I’m trying, I’m really trying.

3) Girl-child discovered prepubescent crack the other day in the mall, in the form of a store called Limited Too. With their $60 jeans for 6-year olds, their Hillary Duff notebooks, their Wall of Lipgloss, oh jeebus on a cracked wheat bun, we could have spent fortnights in that store. I managed to escape with a $7 pair of jeans for her, a really funky 70s hat, and one perfect blueberry lip gloss. Then we went to the ‘Gently Used Consignment Clothing Store’ and bought oodles of cheap clothes that she’ll grow out of before her next birthday…but they’re cute. And Cheap.

4) Have I read any of your posts? Or your Poetry Fridays? Well, a couple, and it makes me damn mad that I haven’t the whatever to get to that. I don’t know about Poetry Friday this week, we’ll see. I need a vacation from my head.



At 9:28 AM, Blogger annush said...

In my experience, any child who actually likes Limtied Too, will grow up to make you wish you were a trust fund baby...

At 10:56 AM, Blogger Mona Buonanotte said...

annush: Oh yeah, I totally got that feeling in there. My credit card was shaking with anticipation, and was disappointed when I ignored it.


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