Sanity Has Left the Building
I can’t do it, you guys. I thought I had this. No problem, I thought. It’s getting easier, I said. I LIED. It’s HARD. I’m TIRED. This is NOT FUN. I miss sleep. I miss not being beat up by a two-year old in public, and I miss sleep. I know I said it twice. It was NOT a mistake.
How crazy am I going? Last night, I told Husbandio that I thought that our entire life was just a figment of my imagination. I thought, for moment, that what if I’m stuck in a straight-jacket, rocking back and forth somewhere, and none of this is real. Husbandio was quick to reassure me that I wouldn’t be in a straight-jacket. I’d mostly likely be staring blankly out of a window somewhere. Even then, I jumped back into the straight-jacket. I could be on my way to the window, I said. Sometimes what seem like the longest dreams occur in just a 10-minute nap. I could still be tied up in the back of a truck somewhere, just en route to the window out of which I’ll stare blankly for the rest of my days.
Yeah. I’m that tired.
It doesn’t stop there. My bestest friend in the world questioned me yesterday because I didn’t immediately hate her new boyfriend. I have a long history of hating her boyfriends. For the record, I’m always right. But now I can’t decide. Do I not hate him because I like him? Or am I just that tired? Am I too tired to be fiercely protective of my bestest? You’re right. Never. He must actually be ok.
And now the rest of the day will SURELY drive me crazy because I get to play the game that everyone loves to hate. What the Fuck is that Smell? No seriously. What the fuck is that smell. It smells like cat piss in here, and we don’t have a cat. None of our food is rotten. The diaper pail is empty. WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SMELL??? Let the systematic bleaching of our entire house commence.
Happy Friday, kittens. I hope you all have lots of sleep in a house that doesn’t stink.