I've had nathan to say lately, really, hence the no typee. First, the spawnage have started school this week, so it's been a major pigfuck 'round these parts. Now that Mr. Z is in middle school (holy fuckstain?!) and Miss O is still at the elementary school, drop-offs and pickups have been impossible to figure out without a goddamn slide-rule and laser-guided miter box. And, while Mr. Z seems to be transitioning into 6th grade like a fucking champ, the stress it's causing me has been practically unbearable -- I'm tossing and turning every night, and having nightmares about showing up in class naked, with shampoo in my hair and completely unprepared for my algebra test. And I have this sinking feeling that, when I'm not looking, the Old Lady's gonna give me a swirlie and/or wedgie.
The other reason I haven't been typing is that I can't tear myself away from the fucking political blogs, of late. I'm having major electile dysfuckshit. I basically just sit here and do the bookmark rounds (one, two, three, four, five, six... and then seven just for good measure), and then I bury my head in my hands and think, "If this trigger-happy Methuselah and his fascist evangelical moose-killing-running-mate win this fucker, how quickly will I be able to move the crabbyfamily to Canda and, more importantly, do they have Trader Joe's in Toronto?"
Maybe I'll get lucky and fall into some sort of short-term coma or something. Then, if things work out in November, I'll snap out of it, but if Wrinkles McCranky pulls it outta his dusty John McAnus, well, they can just pull the ol' plug. Sounds like a plan. I'll start huffing paint thinner tomorrow.
In the meantime, I've gotta hit the sack so I can start my naked-shampoo algebra dream. Nighty-night!