Why is it, when I am home with the darling little ones (read as crazed axe murdering savages), I can’t move my ass? It takes 3 or 4 tries to get started on anything, and then all it takes to stop what I’m doing is one small screaming fit from the girls.
Yet when Psycho-Momia is home, I’m all gung-ho, and move through jobs like a red hot poker through already melting wax.
I know in the last couple of days, it’s partially because I’m attempting to deny my body a substance it has depended on for far too long. My head is all fuzzy, and I’m prone to cold sweats. But, that’s not the full deal – It’s been like this this for a month or so.
On a funnier note, Oldest girl just told me that Buzz (Lightyear, from Toy Story) had the biggest poop. Interesting, no?
Anyway…this ain’t going anywhere, anywhere at all.
I’m gonna go smoke some crack, shoot some heroin into my eyes and try to get some stuff done around here.
I need a real life.