Only Nola

Helloooooo, Therapy!

Well, one of us has an appointment today with a therapist. Guess which one?

(...)

Oh, now, that was just too easy.

Yeah, I'm going to get my head shrunk. But not in the Beetlejuice kind of way. 'Cause that? Just isn't a good look for anyone.

I'm going to work on some issues that are kind of overdue... okay, SERIOUSLY overdue. There's a lot that I've been dealing with, or refusing to deal with, for quite awhile now, so I figured that I'd get off my ass and talk to someone before you all end up reading about me in the paper. In a clock tower. Me in the clock tower, that is, not YOU reading about me while IN a clock tower. 'Cause what would you be doing reading your paper in a clock tower? That's just not normal.

Other than that, things are about the same as they ever are around here. Connor is now in piano lessons, which I'm not sure if I mentioned already or not. He really loves it. He's still doing his Tae Kwon Do, too, so he'll be able to both charm you with his musical prowess AND kick your ass through a wall. It's important to be well rounded, you know.

Bonus news... I had my first guitar lesson last night. Yes, that's right; yours truly is attempting to learn to play the guitar. I bought a pretty one, too. It's an Ibanez. Here, go see for yourself. Isn't that loverly? Sure, it's probably wasted on someone whose fingers went on strike about halfway through the lesson yesterday, but... pretty! It's all about the pretty! Now hopefully sometime in the near future I'll actually be able to make it through the three chords that I learned last night without having an aneurysm. I promise nothing.

The house thing isn't going so well. Is anyone even remotely surprised? (...) I thought not. The plans are beautiful, blah blah blah. Getting bids in on time and/or getting people to a point where we can actually break ground? Nothing but an exercise in torment. We really should have already been underway, but there my lot sits, nary a dozer in sight. *sighs* I'm pretty sure we all knew I'd lost my mind when I started this. Don't kill yourselves saying 'I told you so'. Really.

Well, that's about it for the minute, I guess. I know I've pretty much fallen off the face of the earth with my posting for the last five months, but I'm really going to try and get myself sorted out so that I can give this the attention that I used to. I miss it, but focus has been difficult for awhile, plus , well... I just haven't been in a good place, writing-wise, since my world blew up last year. I appreciate the few of you that have stuck around through it all. My loyal few...

I so owe you cookies.

Flu… Wheeee!

I've now had the flu for a week. A week. That's like nine months in flu years. It sucks long. The fever, the fatigue, the nose that wants to fall off after the six millionth time blowing it... it's festive! And you know what makes it even better?

When your nine year old gets it, too.

Poor Connor got his dose of it two days after mine started. His fever went higher than mine, bless his heart, but otherwise the symptoms have all been the same. Ray's the only one that dodged the bullet... no idea why. Maybe it's just God's idea of humor. Ha.

I'm finally (apparently) fever free. *knocks on wood* I may now be proven to be a liar if I get a lovely little relapse (the universe's way of dealing with people like me who dare to say they're fever free. Mother Nature's a mean bitch.), but hopefully I'm all done. Connor's fever wasn't nearly as high this morning as it's been the last three mornings, so hope springs eternal.

Can it please be summer now? PLEASE?

In other news, we're also on the tail end of a nice little ice storm. School's been closed for three days (which actually worked out to be a blessing, since Connor was so sick he'd have had to have missed school and this way? No absences! Now let's just hope he's fit to go tomorrow.) and Ray's work even shut down yesterday (probably due to that whole pesky 'the power went out when a tree fell on a power line' thing. Go figure.). Right now I'm sitting at the computer and listening to the charming sound of large hunks of ice falling off the roof and crashing right against the window ledge. Scared the living shit out of me earlier.

And while I'm on the (somewhat) topic, can anyone explain to me why truck drivers (whom I normally stick up for due to the fact that cars give them no time to stop, ride their asses, blah blah blah) barrel along at 70 miles an hour during an ice storm? Every car on the road is doing like 40, and here comes random 18 wheeler, running like the hounds of hell are behind him, seemingly intent on nothing so much as driving STRAIGHT. UP. MY. ASS. And if that should fail? At least passing me and nearly blowing me off the road. I don't get it. I've seen quite a few wrecks of overturned 18 wheelers, and it's never pretty. Don't they LEARN? Ice + road + high winds = SLOW THE FUCK DOWN. This isn't rocket science, people. RAINMAN could get this right.

Asshats.

Anyhoo. I'm now going to go curl up on the couch and watch Intervention. And try to find my writing muse while I'm at it. I've slacked off here on the blog to the point of catatonia, and when I sit down to write I'm generally about as able to access the funny as I am the winning lottery numbers. I guess it's just a dry spell. Or psychosis. One of those.

*sighs*