I am so fucking tired that "walking dead" barely covers how I feel. I'm tired to my soul. I slept in this morning until 7AM because the prospect of seeing my kids was so enticing that I simply couldn't help it. I usually am at work by 7 and this morning I strolled in at 815.

I couldn't sleep because I was worrying about the proposals Mike and I put in for a contract job of upkeep on a website that we created over a year ago. I hope it's enough information for them. I hope we get the jobs; Lord knows we need the money. And I'm worrying about this stupid job.

Of course, today everything's blown up...several times. It's bloody depressing.

I feel like what I want is a big shiny icy alcoholic drink with fruit in it in my hand at the end of the day -- daiquiri would be fine. Extra rum, please. Fucking sober company picnics...whose brilliant idea was that? Hrrmph.

If my kids weren't here I'd be drinking. Thank goodness for children.