Quick! I have ten minutes.

Oh, hi. Sorry for my absence. I’ve been doing things, like working.

Because, long story short, I realized that I’m not going to start loving my job until I start really doing it, giving a shit about it, and just because I don’t plan on being there forever doesn’t mean I can’t focus a little bit and take the opportunity I have to do good work in the world. Well, as much as possible anyway. It would be much easier if my patients would stop it with the dying, but we’ve talked about that.

So I’ve been working, and that’s really cut down on my blogging time. Also, I have (as usual) everything and nothing to say, and sometimes that makes beginning a post seem like starting a twenty-five page research paper. Today, I must keep things brief.

A quick aside: my Bird is in the next room, babbling/ shouting at me from her crib, where she is supposed to be napping. I could go in there, but I’m afraid I’ll start the I-only-sleep-on-my-mama-so-don’t-even-give-me-this-crib-bullshit game. And normally I wouldn’t be so rigid, but my in-laws are on their way and are expected at my doorstep in about twenty minutes, and this kid needs a nap like nobody’s business. And if they come busting up in here with the hugging and the cooing and the what have you, we can kiss this nap goodbye for sure.

In the spirit of brevity, which I seem to be losing, here are a few things:

The Father’s Day Card people need to branch out a little bit. Not all dads fix things or like to plunk their fat asses down on the couch with the remote control. And not all Dads grill. I was hard pressed to find a card that did not involve tools, some promise of remote controls/ couch time/ beer, or grilling accessories. Oh, or dumb jokes about how Dad pays for everything, but you’re still a slacker kid, and thanks for the money, aren’t I a bunch of trouble, nudge nudge, right? All dumb.

Also, the downtown public library, in its (I’m for real here) splendor, is really kind of a hobo camp. But the hobos are nice and they sit at the study tables pretending to read, and they always smile kindly at my little banshee as she runs down the long aisle in the fiction section screaming her ass off. But I’m just sayin’, it’s the sweetest, most marble-laden homeless shelter in town.

I’ve been having work-free fridays lately, and I don’t feel like explaining it, but what I can say is that I now see the SAHM role in a new light– several new lights, in fact. One of those is that it could really be a potential spend-a-thon. Because getting out of the house usually involves running errands, errands at places where there are things for sale.

Oh, and this week the Bird has been to the doctor for a mysterious come-and-go limp, and now is covered from head to toe in a spooky looking, non-itching, unidentifiable rash.
I’m just shrugging over here.

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