I am so freakin' tired.

I occasionally have a bad reaction to peanuts in things. I'm usually pretty careful to try to pick peanuts that are pretty fresh and I can deal with certain brands. Every so often someone uses some cheap-ass peanuts that have aged for a decade in a vat of alfatoxin-ridden mold in some Georgia farmer's silo and then they choose to feed them to me. Peanuts like that do very bad things to my stomach. My stomach was so distended and agonizing, that for two fucking days I couldn't get into my fat pants without wishing for a slow death. I was wearing big billowy dresses and sweats, in lieu of anything fitted. It's not just gas, I also am pretty sure that my intestinal lining actually swells. I ate two rounds of said peanuts before realizing that they were the culprit of my agony. The first round was by far the worst, however, the second round hit last night and was really awful.

I finally freed my body of the last vestiges of said toxic peanuts this morning, but that was after I stayed up until 230AM with more bloating and painful intestinal distention watching Outbreak and remembered that the reason they show it at 2 in the morning is because it sucks. Genny's sick and she was up and whiny at 7AM, while I attempted to pry my eyes open and function. It wasn't pretty. Now, that I am old and crotchety, I really really need my beauty sleep. I have sworn off further attempts at childbirth, thus, I feel that it is my right and privilege to sleep in until 8 or 9 because I am getting old and ugly, thus beauty sleep is getting to be a necessity.

Nonetheless, I am swearing off peanuts unless they've been heavily processed into peanutbutter, and even then, I think I'll just stick to almond or apple butter.

My lack of sleep contributed to a familial malaise today. Genny was all sick and whiny; Russell was talking back in rare form, such that he eventually got grounded for a week. He swears up and down that he took his meds, but I think he is full of shit. He was throwing thermonuclear meltdown tantrums. When you're dealing with that in public from a 9.5 year old, the temptation is to get a rope and tie and gag him. My thought was that if I got a holstein fleece fabric and used a horse trailer, I could put one of those horse blinds on his head, and tie him in there with a fake animal tail hanging out the back, and no one would know I was abusing my child. Mike was barely functional and kept being whiny and cranky and bitchy. And then we started looking at real estate while we were all in such a state. F-Ugly. Fugly, I tell ya.

The good news on the real estate front is that our credit is sufficient to get us an FHA loan and the loan amounts available are sufficient to keep us within 20 minutes of Mike's work. We'll start pursuing pre-qualification in May.