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Therapeutic. March 6, 2009

Posted by Julie Momster in Uncategorized.
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Yesterday’s writing was good therapy.

See, this is why I have a blog. No one reads it. It’s not really for anyone but myself to read. When I have too much going on in my brain-cage, I have this blog to fill with all my useless and pathetic little thoughts and diatribes.

[[Not that I’ve ever used the word “diatribe” in every day conversation. But I could!  That’s why I’ve saved it into my brain in the first place.]]

But I do feel better after getting all that out. No, it’s not how I feel all the time, but it’s what I was feeling at THAT time. Although some of those complaints are true on a constant/consistant basis – the conclusions are all wrong. There is no hate, I still love the crazy bastard – but he really doesn’t listen. In such a way as he literally does not hear words coming out of my mouth. He needs Q-Tips more than a bat to the head.. for today, at any rate.

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I am tired. Not just “Oh, wow a nap would be great” tired.

This is full-on “I swear to the gods of all that is caffeinated, if you continue to fail me I will destroy anything and everything you hold dear, just as soon as I wake up from my 3-week-long comazzZzzZZZZZzzzz zzzZZzzzZZZZzzzZZzzzz”

I have a dreadful fear that I will pass out and brain myself on my computer desk. Gooey mind bits and blood all over my pens and mousepad, my lifeless body tucked under my chair, slowly seeping blood onto the heads of the minions on the 5th floor below me.

On the other hand, if I woke up from that, I’m sure I would feel very refreshed.

Baby-butt hasn’t really been waking me up that often, per se. She really only wakes up once or twice a night to be fed and changed. But every time she does, I’m awake for at least an hour. And when you add getting up early to prepare baby and myself before work, and Michael making me stay up late with him into the mix(he “needs” company, and apparently since I am not pregnant anymore, he thinks this means I now have limitless energy to stay up all night watching him play video games), I am falling to my knees with exhaustion by 10 AM.

I need a mini-break. I need a nap. I need a 3-week-long coma.

Instead, I think I’ll be getting Starbucks.

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