Miss Begotten is one of my pet names for myself, for Southern Gothic reasons best kept to myself. Miss Begotten tries to speak plainly, but sometimes she tends to babble -- parenthetically, of course. It's never my intention to offend (and usually that's true - except on those [maybe not so] rare occasions when I mean it very friggin' much) but it sometimes happens, so if you're unusually easily offended...
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
They'll Yank You Baldheaded If You Let Them
After the stellar day I had, why should I not have expected a similarly stellar evening? I should have locked the door, turned off the phone, and draped the house in garlic. I'm singing Aretha right about now -- Rescue Me!
One family member after another has been on the phone tonight, each piece of news worse than the one before. As things now stand, I seem to be the only sane one in the bunch. And that ain't saying much.
My mother's got a "thing" on her head, just one more in a never-ending litany of ailments, some real, some imaginary. And now my brother's back home with her. He's been married less than a year and he's ... just now finding out that he married a fruitcake (his second nutcase)?! How much darker did the handwriting on the wall need to be?
One of my cousins seems to have had a nasty breakup with her, um, girlfriend, and one of my steps has moved back in with her ex-husband. Again.
And my son... When the dam breaks there and I'm ready to start venting, well, it'll take a whole new blog to get all that out.
I'm heading for the bathtub, which is a much better solution than pulling my hair out. Or my ... teath, one of those Twisted Words I stumbled across earlier tonight. And damn it, I was certainly entitled to that one little giggle, too. I want lavender oil, and water as hot as I can stand it. A glass of wine might not be a bad idea, either. Damn it, there could be a tear or two involved. Yep, I'm wound about as tight as I can take. Something's gotta give.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
7 comments:
CALGON TAKE ME AWAY
These days make us enjoy the semi-sane ones. Relax, it is almost tomorrow and all will be better.
The bath was good and, yep, things always look better in the morning. If you don't hear from me tomorrow, send a search party.:)
LOL,
Who are you kidding? You will blog from the grave.
ifrib- They gave me a partial question. Now I am haunted. If rib what?
You're probably right. Where else can I bitch and moan to my heart's content? LOL.
If rib -- if rib be missing and you no want mate, run like hell!
Oh my, Serena, what a 24 hours you've suffered!
I really hope everything is much better today and that you can put yesterday behind and learn from the experience: If at first you don't have a bird in the hand, remember that tomorrow is yesterday's dinner. (Have I got that right?)
I've been up for an hour, Liz, and the phone hasn't rung. LOL.
The only bird I want to see today is in a Colonel Sanders bucket. Everything else gets the bird. :)
Yup, Steve, there is something to be said for distance. Distance would make no difference to my clan, though. They'd just hunt me down. :)
Post a Comment