That's us, tippin' on the tightrope, always.
It is crazy here. As Bird recently declared, "This house is nothing but babies and crazy people."
Well said.
Work is nuts, A's work is nuts, kids are nuts, social calendar is nuts, weather/ heat is nuts, dogs are nuts, family is nuts:
IT'S A DAD-GUMMED PARTY MIX, Y'ALL.
And on Friday, we all (except Gopher) woke up with some kind of awful stomach ick which passed-- violently-- in about 24 hours and our tiny one-man bathroom saw A LOT of action.
In the past few weeks, I've been on two bizarre work-related road trips, one in which I saw a sign by the side of the road that said "Twenty Kinds of Cheese" and I actually got to stop, and another in which I drug my friend T. along and visited the most delicious-smelling Mennonite grocery in all of West Tennessee, plus saw buzzards, plus saw a goat standing on top of another goat (!), plus drove a Grand Marquis all over the countryside, plus visited a very creepy home/ museum or two, plus plus plus. This project, it wears me out in a good way, and it beats the hell out of writing healthcare marketing copy day in and day out behind a desk, so I'll take it.
Also watched the LOST finale, and I have one thing to say: pbbbbbbffffttt. Way to waste a few years of my life, LOST. It was as if the writers showed up for the final exam but hadn't really been doing the reading all semester, which is something I wake up in a cold sweat over, still, 12 years post-college. So in essence, the finale of LOST was my recurring nightmare.
Plus, it was lame.
There is more, but I am tired, and A. is at Bonnaroo doing some supercool work opportunity fun creative project stuff, and I'm supposed to be doing actual work-work (sewing machine marketing, anyone?) that I promised to do for Monday since I had to leave the office early on Friday on account of a guts-puke-out. Because I'm dedicated like that.
I'll leave you with our latest favorite dance party:
Me: What do you think those guys are?
Bird: Mirrors with coats on. (duh).
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