Failure

If you never see yourself as a massive failure then you’ve got your head up your ass.

No, I’m not kidding. Dinner sucked last night, I failed to check Alexander’s homework and he lied about it like a little cretin. Alexander is now punished, but really it should be me because I gave him just enough rope to hang himself.

This morning was the blessing of the animals. I swear to all that is holy the priest fairly drowned the hamster.

Too bad, too, because if there was ever an animal that needed an exorcism Teddy Bear is it. I had the dog groomed yesterday and guess what holy water does to a freshly groomed poodle? Yep, there’s forty bucks down the drain.

Clearly I’m too irreverent Jewish to have the animals blessed.

Dinner will suck because I’m taking Step Dad’s big ass Benz for a schlep across the valley to get a storage shed before it rains on the bicycles. Yes, I borrowed a $90,000 car so that I can save $50 on a storage shed. Don’t fuck with me, it makes sense.

I’m so tired I want to cry.

I can’t quite catch up. I can’t quite get it all under control and I really need people to expect a little less of me, because I’m exhausted. I know that my Hashimotos Thyroiditis is out of control, I can feel it in my neck and I can’t find a good endocrinologist. Everyone just keeps asking me to take levoxyl and telling me that the T3 and T4 and TSH levels are fine. Then why do I have a lump in my throat? Why is my skin so dry? Why am I exhausted when I should be refreshed? Why can’t I breathe when I lay on my back? It’s not okay for me to be this sick. I know it can’t be good for my heart either (yes, I do have one).

Oh, and I’ll tell you about the fucked up ticket tomorrow. It involves a big Range Rover and a little prick.

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  1. Sounds like you need a break. Try to take it easy. You have too many things on your plate, but I can totally relate. I’m following the market, talking to investors, approaching a tax deadline, doing monthly and quarter-end accounting, doing bi-weekly and twice a month payrolls, and watching the elections. I only write on Twitter because it’s the only release I have these days. A message at a day spa would be nice.

  2. Oh, sweetie, you need to have something simple for dinner (that you don’t cook) and then snuggle up with your kiddies and watch a sappy movie. Just lie there and soak them up.

    If we were close enough I’d come make you dinner and then drag you all off to Joel’s football game–and doesn’t that sound wonderful?

    Hope you find a good doctor SOON.

  3. You need some sleep! No one gets mother of the year every day and don’t even get me started on sucky dinners. It’ll all seem better when you feel healthier and get some sleep…

  4. I feel better about my failures now. My solution last week was to go in my room, lock the door (=locked kids out), turn on Tivo’d Oprahs and shut the lights so I could scoop 1/2 fat Edy’s chocolate ice cream into my mouth between pouts (cuz if you can’t see ’em the calories don’t count.) Put me into a sugar-Oprah coma but at least I got some sleep.

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