Liver and Fitness

Motherhood is not an overly valued profession. Sad. Really but had I sluffed my children off to be cared for by others from their infancy and continued in my march for the pristine career. I would be much more employable.

Kind of a bugger.


Not in the least my children are healthy well balanced individuals who live lives of tolerance in spite of their very naughty father and his wacky beliefs. I would like to stick that on my resume. That I have kept children sane and off drugs when a week with their father should by all means have driven them very quickly to both, probably at the same time.

So rejection is in the eye of the beholder.

I choose to take my rejection letter with a spot of rum and a side of exercise.

Cheers

London

At the weekend I was asked what car I would drive if I had infinite amounts of money. Curious question, I am unsure if it was a veiled slam on my Honda Pilot, or not. Doesn't matter, I do not dwell on those matters.

I would have to say a Mini Cooper.
They are zippy.
They are fuel efficient.
They are obscenely cute, with more bounty hunter than barbie.

Probably though, if I had the money to spare, I would fly to London and take my friend who is ever so far away from home to a James Blunt concert.

Cheers.

Right after I deposited tuition for university in a trust fund x 3.

Dear Abbey.

Obviously this is tattooed on my forehead, in ink that only complete strangers can read.

The diabetic single father of nine behind me in line at the grocery. He occassionally sneaks chocolate, he knows it is wrong but he does it anyway.

The barista at my local coffee house - she'd had a fight with her boyfriend, he pushes her, controls her, she doesn't know why she is telling me this, but she is.

The elder at the church speaking about plans for the community center, the help for the downtrodden and addicted, for those who've made poor choices in life or for whom poor choices were made for them and they were left abandoned with what life had dealt them.

The single mother at the football game, she's lonely, and so very tired. I should take my kids over, we could sit on the patio and talk.

It's Wednesday. I already know more about those around me than really I care to. That's ugly and terrible. I actually do not mind listening. I just would like a paycheck so that while I'm listening the sounds of the last of my coins dropping would stop intruding.

Bloody Unemployment

Bloody hell!

Over and over and over in my mind.

Bloody bleeding hell.

I hate being unemployed. I hate looking for bloody jobs. It sucks. It makes me want to cry.

Which. I. Also. Hate.

Bills turn up every day, seems like anyway. Most often it does not phase me. Occasionally, it royally ticks me off. I keep paying all the bills and money leaks out like sand in a hour glass, evey minute of every single day. I bought a house, lovely really, but the a/c - the inspection said it was up to snuff and now that the honeymoon is well and truely over, it's not. Repairs - it needs, which lead to ... you guessed it - more bloody bills!!!!

And then, on top of the jobless, financial strife, you toss in the prick of an ex - I am certain that they are not all pricks, because I myself have actually met some nice ex's. Well, he doesn't worry me, except how he is in fact giving his child an ulcer! So bloody well piss off. Please go and get mauled by a kangaroo and don't bother your offspring ever again - honestly it would be better for them.

I have hit the sauce. Overdue. Certainly. Like Twins.

Possibly Conjoined, the vino and I.

Cheers.