Dear Sacrum,

Please just knock it off. I could barely walk today and that sucked toad balls.  My back feels like you're jamming ice picks up my spine.  This behavior SUCKS!

Knock it the hell off.

Thanks,
The Brain

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Dear Brain,

Would you keep the racket down?  My gosh, how's a woman my age supposed to rest with you whipping by at 90 mph?

Due to your excessive work ethic, we would really enjoy eight hours uninterrupted sleep in which we weren't playing work taxi for Russell or trying to get one more hit in at Mechanical Turk or worrying ourselves into a coma.

Please shush!

Thanks,
The Body

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Dear Sandman,

Do you think you could get off your ass and drop a beach on me, so I can get some uninterrupted sleep?  Between my body, my brain, the kids and my insomnia, I could really use more than a four hour stretch.  Oh, and could you drop that beach on me, AFTER I've had some naked time alone with the husband?

We'd both really appreciate it.  I'll even bake for you.

Thanks,
Ruby

I think I inhaled 10 lbs of chocolate last night and almonds.  Oh, so many almonds!  Yeah, that's my PMS thing, even as I head into menopause.  Today, chocolate had about as much appeal as any other food.  I still wanted almonds, but I think that's just a genetic defect on my part.

I didn't have the explosive anger fit I usually do, though I thought about it a lot.  I did lay out Russell, but I did it gently and just told him to please not be disrespectful or unkind to me.  We talked it out like adults.  I didn't shout, wax insane or anything.  OK, well no crazier than usual. The angels wept.  The demons pouted.  OK, not really, but I have been drinking a lot of caffeinated beverages, which really solves most of the world's ills, I'm sure of it.

Mike and I have been having "dates."

It's so weird.  We've been playing Ingress on our phones.  We go to all these places, hack the portals, grab a burger in between and the whole time, we're chatting with each other, joking, laughing, copping a feel, and finding some romance in our lives.  There's been some discussion of dropping the oversized bean bag in the back of the van, putting curtains up and obtaining knee pads, but I don't think I could appropriately explain the curtains and bean bag to people Mike carpools with, without convulsively laughing and blushing like a teenaged girl.

I'm back to the sewing table making blankets for a few people, this evening and over the week and weekend.  I have jewelry ideas floating in my head.  I've got a garden planned.

My wisdom of the day is this:  Never let an asshole ruin your whole day. Assholes are made to be wiped and then clothed and sent on their merry way, hopefully less full of shit. 

Mothers have been doing it for millenia, so I'm thinking they have the right idea.

I've been feeling very distractable lately.  I know I should be focusing on certain things, but I'm more interested in winging it for right now.

I usually always have a plan.  I'm still in plan formulation.  My plan was to get a full-time job and do that, but dude, I so don't want to do that.  I think I'd be happier doing part-time until Russell gets his license.  Of course, getting him to do so, has mostly been a knockdown drag-out fight.  He likes being chaffeured around.  This is the kid who always wanted to feel special and he was my first and he's always been special. I've always had to do so much for his health and now, for his job.

I hope he stops needing me so much.

I'd like some time for myself.  I'd like to be able to schedule time with Mike that didn't involve having to figure out when we were picking him up and dropping him off.

I'm stuck in a bad health cycle.  I'm going to my doctor tomorrow to discuss things.  I want to see what he thinks my priorities should be.  Basically, my game plan is get my fibro under reasonable control, look into and obtain bariatric surgery, then see if Genny's independent enough not to need a momma taxi much to be as wildly successful as possible.