Excellent Blog
2007 Inspiring Blog
Rockin' Girl Blogger

i cannot blog until the contractors leave

October 5th, 2005

i swear, i cannot even freaking focus and thus will be unable to blog until the contractors leave. The only comfort I have is the photo gallery of Beauty Queen Rockstarmommy and her adorable tattooed family. Sigh. What a cool girl. I cannot post pictures of my own adorable family as I cannot figure out how to work my digital camera. Ha! You think I jest! I do not.

Rockstarmommy looks quite a bit like the Old Carly on “General Hospital” who just honestly is one of the prettiest girls in the universe, IMHO. (No, I don’t mean New Drag Queen Female Impersonator Carly, having a nervous breakdown and kinda freaking me out, and not Old Old Carly — Tamara Braun I mean. Oh, Tamara Braun, why did you blow GH?)

Yes, they’re still here, the contractors, along with the Honey Bucket they rode in on. They love it here. Well, we’re down to two of ’em now. (Contractors, not Honey Buckets.) There is only one here, most days. My kids, per usual, refuse to listen to me, but they’ll listen to the contractors. How pathetic is that?

“Get away from that window now. You’ll break it. Move back. Good job, little guy!” No I am not kidding. (Single-paned glass, adventuresome three-year-old.)

Also, I’m so confused that I cannot FUCKING REMEMBER WHERE I PARKED MY CAR. Ever. And the contractors have to point me in the right direction, for example…

“It’s in the driveway.”

Today I locked myself out of the house, and he tells me, “No, I left the side door open, you’re good!” But I was not good, cuz I’d locked it up after him. Also, the mailman has developed a bit of jealousy, as he saw me bringing the contractors lemonade one day and, “You never bring me lemonade! Not even when it’s hot as hell out here!”

Like, one husband wasn’t enough trouble for me? Now I’ve got, what, four or five? Between the mailman, Hockey God and assorted contractors?

Off to watch “Lost” in bed and fantasize about Sawyer… Would my kids listen to him? Yeah, probably. But I need not worry about that — we’d be on our own Fantasy Island, sans husband(s), sans kids, sans large neurotic dog who eats everything on the counter, including cubes of butter, every time I turn my back.

Ta-ta for now,


No Comments

No comments yet.

Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.