Re-entry was challenging this week. Once I returned from the Chicago of my dreams, I fell into a desperate funk. Really. Truly. And when mommy is in a funk, the girls get their funky funk on, too. I was so happy to see them, and their father, my spouse. B.
Re: the doofus who had an affair with some lady in Argentina. The governor of one of thems southern states. I want to focus the attention on his awesome fucking wife. Finally, a woman who does not stand next to the asshole who lied to her in private and in public and thought he was above all of it as he confesses in front of the media. I don’t care about any of it in a political sense, I just can’t imagine supporting someone who would drag myself and my children through the muck like that. That man had no respect for his family. I hope his wife finds some comfort in the fact that she doesn’t have to deal with him anymore. If you gotta have sex with someone else, GET A DIVORCE! That’s what they’re there for! You’re not doing anyone any good by lying.
Oh yeah, back to my mini-nervous breakdown. I dunno. This summer is just kind of brutal. Some days are excellent and I feel like the job I am doing is good, others suck ass. Is that description enough? Two more months from now, three mornings per week will be spent driving my darlings to preschool, followed by two hours of, I dunno, grocery shopping? Then picking them up again. Doesn’t it just sound divine? Maybe I can even find gainful employment if I don’t have some crazed non-napping maniac pounding my computer keys or screaming in my ear or climbing on my legs and back. Today’s non-napper ran wild until about 4pm, a half-hour before we wake children up from naptime in this house, then passed out by herself on the nasty little rug at the bottom of the stairs, a pile of cookie crumbs beneath her. Wearing her wedding cake dress.