Dying fish, broken vans, shattered glasses, sounds like a country song.
February 6th 2007 06:57
I have been wracking my brain, trying to come up with something fun to write about, but alas, fun is far from my mind. We just recently put our van in the shop, and what started out as a $650 fix, quickly escalated into a $1500 hole of despair. Which sucks a big fat donkey dong. Fortunately for us, we have the money to fix it, and therefore it's getting fixed. It just totally sucks ass to have to shell out that dough.
As if that wasn't bad enough, today Tony stepped on and broke his glasses. AND oh yes, ladies and gentlemen, it gets worse, my fish are dying. They've contracted some weird fish disease that causes red streaks in the fins, and to peck at each other, and to swim around like crazy things. I knew they were feeling poorly, but I assumed it was from Jonny A.K.A Fish Killer Jones, dumping half a bottle of fish food in there. AS the days wore on, they didn't get much better, until today I notced that they've dramatically taken a turn for the worse, and have now developed these red, veiny streaks in their tails. I can';t help feel that maybe I'm Fish Killer Jones, because the other day I thought it would be cool to "pet" the fish. I probably subjected them so some weird virus from scracthing myself and touching them.
They say bad things happen in threes, and that better be it damn it, I can't take much more. My life is a big pool of SUCK right now. If I wasn't in anti depressants, I probably would have eaten myself to death. As it is I'm dreading the scale at Weight WAtchers. Tony's been on vacay, and well we likes the food.
We actually had a kid free weekend. As fun as it sounds, it really isn't. Because when the kids are around, they act as a buffer to keep you from interacting with your spouse. It's fun to steal kisses, and feel ups when there is the possibility of being interupted. So, when you're THERE and the kids are not, and you know you could bump uglies in every room in the house if you had enough time and lube, all of a sudden it doesn't seem so appealing anymore. You kind of look at each other like "Ummm ok what now?" and you go and hang out with your friends and play cards all night.
Sunday though, we did have a decent time. We ordered a big ole greasy pizza and chicken wings and watched Peter JAcksons King Kong, which we stopped watching after the 16th hour. Ok, I exaggerate, but according to my DVR the movie is 3 hours and 16 minutes long. THREE HOURS and sixteen minutes long. And Kong? He's in it for like four minutes TOPS. After they got to New York, and Kong climbed the Empire State Building, we knew what was coming next, and sol we turned it off.
Tony is off to Texas to fish for four days with my dad, grandpa, and my grandpa's son, which is NOT my dad. (My grandpa is technically a step) and I'm looking forward to sleeping in bed alone, even if I'm not digging having to take the girl child to school.
Now, I just need to figure out how to explain to my daughter about her fish dying.
As if that wasn't bad enough, today Tony stepped on and broke his glasses. AND oh yes, ladies and gentlemen, it gets worse, my fish are dying. They've contracted some weird fish disease that causes red streaks in the fins, and to peck at each other, and to swim around like crazy things. I knew they were feeling poorly, but I assumed it was from Jonny A.K.A Fish Killer Jones, dumping half a bottle of fish food in there. AS the days wore on, they didn't get much better, until today I notced that they've dramatically taken a turn for the worse, and have now developed these red, veiny streaks in their tails. I can';t help feel that maybe I'm Fish Killer Jones, because the other day I thought it would be cool to "pet" the fish. I probably subjected them so some weird virus from scracthing myself and touching them.
They say bad things happen in threes, and that better be it damn it, I can't take much more. My life is a big pool of SUCK right now. If I wasn't in anti depressants, I probably would have eaten myself to death. As it is I'm dreading the scale at Weight WAtchers. Tony's been on vacay, and well we likes the food.
We actually had a kid free weekend. As fun as it sounds, it really isn't. Because when the kids are around, they act as a buffer to keep you from interacting with your spouse. It's fun to steal kisses, and feel ups when there is the possibility of being interupted. So, when you're THERE and the kids are not, and you know you could bump uglies in every room in the house if you had enough time and lube, all of a sudden it doesn't seem so appealing anymore. You kind of look at each other like "Ummm ok what now?" and you go and hang out with your friends and play cards all night.
Sunday though, we did have a decent time. We ordered a big ole greasy pizza and chicken wings and watched Peter JAcksons King Kong, which we stopped watching after the 16th hour. Ok, I exaggerate, but according to my DVR the movie is 3 hours and 16 minutes long. THREE HOURS and sixteen minutes long. And Kong? He's in it for like four minutes TOPS. After they got to New York, and Kong climbed the Empire State Building, we knew what was coming next, and sol we turned it off.
Tony is off to Texas to fish for four days with my dad, grandpa, and my grandpa's son, which is NOT my dad. (My grandpa is technically a step) and I'm looking forward to sleeping in bed alone, even if I'm not digging having to take the girl child to school.
Now, I just need to figure out how to explain to my daughter about her fish dying.
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Summer Banks
Romance Writers
