Trudging on,

I’m finding it difficult to function this week. Nothing going on, certainly nothing like other people are dealing with. But for some reason, every thing I do seems to take more energy than I have allotted for the entire week. As such, I’m just slogging through every day, not really getting much done, but going through the most basic motions of it. I’ve had the same 3 things on my to do list all week, and the thought of doing them is draining me of my will to continue. Seriously, it would probably take less effort to just pick up the phone and schedule my hospital tour, as opposed to what I’ve been doing: carrying around the flier with the phone number on it, taking it out of my purse, unfolding it, setting it on my desk to stare at me all day, and then think of 10 things I “need” to do before it makes any sense to make the phone call. This has been done several times a day for the last week. Make sense? Of course not. But, clearly, I am a smidge retarded.

On the plus side, someone at work brought in bagels, cream cheese and LOX! If there is any better surprise at 10:30 am (other than “everyone go home for the rest of the week. And of course we’ll still pay you!), I don’t know what it is.

I’m feeling pretty squooshy about Xtian these days. That guy is the tops, I tell you. For the last few weeks, he’s been working tons of extra days and hours at work to help them fill some gaps, while helping to fill our dwindling bank account at the same time. Of course this means he gets no rest at all, and on his one day off, is usually saddled with my bullshit. And he does it all without complaint. In fact, he’s been making my breakfasts for me most days. And I don’t mean a bowl of cereal. The man is a breakfast god, and yesterday I was treated to a croissant topped with cheese and chicken-apple sausage. I will hereby say there are no better foods in the world.

Did I also mention the fact that the man is hot? I mean, for reals, hot. So hot, in fact, that the last time we went out dancing, we ended up at a gay bar (which is really the perfect place for old married people to hang out). At this bar, Xtian ended up dancing surrounded by about 6 men. Over the course of the evening, more than a handful of men tried to get Xtian to come home with them. He politely declined, telling the men that he’s married. And a few of the men even came back with, “Well, I guess your wife could join us.” See? Hottttt. The best part, he has no idea he’s even remotely better-than-average-looking.


I’m officially buying everything from this website: http://www.swirlsyndicate.com/shopping/sh_multiculticutie.html. I mean, who wouldn’t love a little Mocha Cub wearing a onesie like this:
No one, that’s who.

I think I might just take off a little early today and use that time to lie on the couch, surrounded by kitties.