Posts Tagged ‘what time is it?!?!’

tuesday… right? today is tuesday?

yes, ok… the 6th. right? the 6th?

paul’s birthday is friday.

cards. can’t forget the cards. mine, jackson’s, and the dog’s.

THE BIG GIFT. must NOT forget THE BIG GIFT.

my knee resembles the balloon jackson got at trader joe’s.

even the reddish tinge. nice.

got an orthopod to see me today at 2 thanks to a cancelation.

someone must love me.

mother-in-law arrives tonight so i can be off my feet for the next 3 days.

magoo and i head to atlanta saturday.

sunday i go help with the twins. THE TWINS.

shit, my knee.

fuckin baby gate.

crap, i cussed twice in two sentences. mom will be mad.

i want my mommy.

new ottomans come today.

yes, ottomanS, plural… we got two.

our couch is 9 feet long.

we are big people. we need big furniture.

i hope this orthopod gives me better drugs than vicodin.

if i have to go in an MRI tube, i will lose my shit.

whatever, my shit is already lost.

i should start packing for seattle/portland trip.

returning from THE TWINS trip with 24 hours to repack and head out west for 10 days.

10 days no magoo.

cue tears.

but yay, cuz i’m getting this tattoo!!!

dad will not like that i’m putting it on my arm.

“rut ro reorge.”

i’m an inked mom.

i LOOOOOOOVE being an inked mom.

no, i don’t see myself going back to teaching.

my master’s degree will not serve a purpose in the future.

i’m a writer.

i have 4 book proposals going.

i just started writing fiction!!!

holy crap, can’t believe i just wrote that.

I’M WRITING FICTION!!!

i’m stoked.

i’m a mom.

i’m a writer.

i’m a gimp.

dammit i better not need surgery on my knee.

*big sigh*

how do people do this with more than one child?

honestly?

how?

oh, and how do people do this with their placenta???

tom… katie… suri… scientology… whut???

no, i didn’t just say that.

eyebrow wax thursday.

CANNOT forget that.

i need an agent.

really need to get on that and make that a priority.

need to call in some favors…

need to have my fuckin knee not make me want to drive an ice pick through my eye cuz maybe that would hurt less.

don’t trip over baby gates.

don’t get your foot caught on the handle of the baby gate as you step over it.

just take the damn thing down to walk into the next room.

sure, it might be more of an effort… but heed my words you parents of not-yet-toddlers.

don’t trip over baby gates.

seattle/portland bloggers, i will be out there oct. 17-27th.

let’s hang.

i think i’m running out of last minute favors to ask of my mother-in-law.

seriously. she should start running a tab on me.

i’ll have to be bed-ridden the next three days in order to help with THE TWINS come sunday.

oh i can’t wait to see my rach.

nana will have three straight days of magoo… and then return with pops to have 10 (yes, TEN) straight days of magoo while i’m out west with paul.

i’m a spoiled bitch.

can i ask for percocet?

can you ask for stuff like that? just out right ask for it?

i mean all they can do is say “no,” right? and then look at you like you’re a pill-popping-mom-junkie.

awesome.

i remember being assigned projects when i was in elementary school… popsicle sticks, glue and leaves were the necessary materials.

middle school got a little more difficult. those frickin tri-fold boards were included, and a solar system was expected to be created out of styrofoam balls. (hahaha, i said “balls”).

and then high school was the real deal… no messin around. you couldn’t have your parents put together this project for ya. it was do or die.

i died.

i had to take apart a hair dryer (of all things… for the love of women who need to use this device! where’s the humanity?!)

then i had to lay out all of its insides, like a dissected pig fetus (yeah, you remember that, don’tcha!?) label with toothpicks, and i had to memorize and then explain to my teacher how exactly the hair dryer converted energy and moved the energy throughout the contraption that gave me the luscious locks i had as a smokin hot senior in high school.

i died. i didn’t fail, but i died.

i don’t do science. or math. numbers freak me out. i’m a words, colors, images, creative and expressive individual (which side of the brain that belongs to, i couldn’t even tell ya).

and now here i am. in my adult life. married for nearly 5 years (in a few weeks) with a child (coming up on a year and a half years old)… and i have projects consuming me.

as of now my non-mom-household projects include the following:

1) keeping up my own blog… the readership has grown. it’s encouraging. i love you all for reading. truly, i do. i write for me. but i also write for you. you keep me inspired. thank you.

2) working on “bottle of the week”… which technically i don’t understand, so i have help and then send my help beer in return for his awesomeness.

3) pursuing an agent… i’ve been told numerous times by numerous people over numerous months that i need a goddamn agent. ok fine… but who do i trust??? who is going to “get me,” ya know? like really, truly, “get me.” cuz if ya don’t “get me” you’re screwed even more so than i am.

4) i currently have 3 book proposals sitting in my laptop. 3 who the hell does that??? some have priorities over others, but nevertheless, there are three. GAHURHG!!!

when do i have time to write? i dunno… now… at 11:42 pm when i should be sleeping. “should” being the operative word (that i distain… oh how i loathe that word).

the current goal is to work towards being PUBLISHED and not agent shopping.

i help friends out with their projects. and that excites me. that revs my engine because it’s good karma, man. good juju can take you a long way.

i guess i just didn’t anticipate the freelance writing, project world to be this chaotic (?)

nevertheless… i will live what i love.

and i love to write.