Ramble On 2009

It is a gorgeous windy and sunny day here where I am. We've done our visiting for the day and are free to walk, play or well....ok, clean, as I am finding that's what I'm making time for.

We had a fabulous show with Jeff Bell last Thursday regarding my favorite pastime, OCD. And to me, it always helps to hear that I am not alone, although our individual battles each and every time can make us feel that way.

This week on Scorpion Equinox, we're going to have The Green RN, Lesly Federici. Awesome stuff for anyone who has more interest in going green or knowing what is lurking in your personal and house cleaning products, food, etc.

Today is the first day since Lent began that I could delve back into any sort of salty chip type food - doritos, fritos, potato chips and also baked goods - cookies, cake, pastries, etc. I was terrific during Lent and didn't partake. This was sooo healthy for me and although most of the time it was easy, it would be late at night when I was starving and just wanted a 'bite' of 'something' that I would think about it.

My mom of course had three different bags of chips at her house today and my appetite chirped up that yes, it's time to have the chips! It's true people. You can't eat just one.

We didn't happen to have any ready made food on hand upon getting home so besides coffee and potato chips, I've had a couple of chocolates and popcorn. I am suddenly finding myself in a foul mood and confused as to why my dip in bubbly energy has gunned the gas. I'm guessing lack of healthy food and I should know myself better. I have done the coffee then 2 bite sized chocolates before and it always results in This Mood. But that's what addicts do - they think it will be different somehow or will get away with it This Time.

Humanling is so bored that she is currently watching college women's bowling. I didn't know it existed. I wouldn't have denied its presence, but I wouldn't have thought they televised it on one of our mere 100 channels.

The poofy white soul that we recently acquired, known in her previous home as "Princess" and known here as "Princess" (I really thought about calling her Saphara, and at times do, or "Animal" as I call Azrael at times) seems to be doing well. Besides the fact that I didn't realize the bed decorations could purr or yawn. She loves being on the bed. If I could just set her up with a litterbox on the bed, along with her food, she'd never get down.

She and Az are not longtime buddies still, but they will tolerate each other's energy as they both find a spot on top of my 5 foot long body to lay on. Azrael will be the one who tries to inch her way up to my face. Maybe to smother me for bringing another animal home. Or maybe Iraq isn't the only culture that considers the foot to be the lowest form of dignity.

In the wake of our other little boy passing recently, we took in two guinea pigs from a rescue situation. Two baby males, Yuki and Kyyo. They also hate each other. Instead of buying a hot dress this week, I've purchased another cage so that Yuki can stop pretending he's a bird on a ledge, avoiding being on the ground where Kyyo will give him another beating. Alpha's everywhere! Yuki's cage should be here tomorrow. Petdiscounters.com is the fastest shipping place I've ever used. They are in NY state so I have a sneaking suspicion that as soon as I order something some guy from the warehouse loads up his car, grabs a coffee and heads on over. I've never actually seen a package dropped off.

The love life has revived and is where it should be. That'll be a tale for a nice rainy day kids.

Ah, and now the power of OCD and the need to get in the know so that the OCD can shut itself in the dryer for a few cycles and shrink itself a bit. I have had for years a fibroid that is a nice size. I'm a tiny girl so these things can really pronounce themselves well on a small frame. You wouldn't really know unless I was nekked but I know its there. I also know it is there because of a number of variables in my past. Some of them being emotional, much of it being stress from bad relationships that I should have walked out of, some of it being from food sensitivities and the stress on my liver to detox a cumulative effect to filter out the excess estrogen. I have not been diligent enough in detoxing...i.e. drinking enough water, excercising in order to sweat and pass the toxins through easier, relaxing more, doing more yoga - or any yoga lately for that matter and staying away from sugar, caffeine or alcohol. Alcohol is the least of my worries. I might drink twice a month - if that. Many times I go for months without a drop. I only drink when there is company. Does Humanling count as 'company'? (Kidding).

Caffeine is a mountain. I heart coffee like I heart anything else effective for living. It's not merely a drink, its an atmosphere. It's a house full of paintings, a library full of knowledge, the path full of possibilities. I'm not addicted.

Sugar - well, I try. Sugar goes in the coffee. I've tried agave but have for whatever bizarre reason it gives me a sore throat. I probably eat chocolate every day.

Now I've seen my gyn lately and it seems that I will go for an ultrasound in 6 months to see what's all going on in there. I'm determined to get into fully balanced health and not have to do anything further regarding this. She wasn't worried about anything for the time being.

However, some days I am optimisitic. Other days I am convinced that something way wrong is going on and that really makes my mood slink into a realm that doesn't make me feel like myself.

So I figured going public would force me into really doing something about it. I need to be healthy (and for the most part think I am) for myself and mainly for the Humanling.

I have read that tea helps prevent certain gyn issues so I am putting black tea into the diet and hoping it will help. I'll be off making some soon, but know that I really need to get out of this mood or else the tea will make it much worse.

So now, it is time to finish my veggies and then move on to planting some herbs with the child.

I wish everyone a beautiful day!

Closet and Raging OCD'ers Come On Down!

Just to let everyone know, this week Scorpion Equinox will have guest Jeff Bell on, author of Rewind, Replay, Repeat. Jeff is the national spokesperson for Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and a radio show host for KCBS Radio in the afternoons, the CBS Network’s San Francisco flagship. His website is http://www.beyondthedoubt.org/.

Our show is on at a special time this week since we wanted to work with Jeff's schedule and you know how us OCD'ers are...we really really really really wanted him on. Listen on Thursday, April 9th at 1pm EST.

Naturally I'm excited because I've had the good fortune to enjoy OCD since I was eight. So if you feel compelled, then listen.

Ok?

Ok?

Is that ok?

Ok?

Tiger Trigger Lillies

I have major issues with kicking up dust or dragging invisible airborne particles through the kitchen when I am cooking. Things that cannot be done while I am cooking are:

The litter box being cleaned and then the resulting After Bag being put into the garbage (which is in the kitchen) no matter how tightly its closed

The guniea pig cage can not be cleaned (its done on the kitchen floor)

The vacuum absolutely cannot be turned on (I know stuff is flying out that I can't see and then settling on things)

Any First or Second Stage Rehab perfomances, where moldy food is in a dish and has sat out on the counter in good faith of heading to the garbage yet hasn't made it there yet, is not allowed to travel while food is unprotected or even visible out of the fridge.

The other day I took three hard boiled eggs in a small pyrex container out of the fridge. They'd been there for a few days and I figured the grim reaper of the bin was scheduled to make the rounds. I left them in the pyrex, covered with foil. Unfortunately, I left them like that for a couple of days and forgot about what was in the bowl. Ah foil....Promotes denial.

Friday night I decided to boil four eggs to take with us to the craft fair. After peeling them and leaving them on the stove, in another same sized pyrex container, I decided to go against one of my own rules and open the foil on the bowl near the sink. What's in there anyway?

The eggs. The eggs that look just like the eggs cooling on the stove now. I threw them out fast, walking far away from the stove in an outer curve to avoid mixing the air molecules from one to another.

But then the doubt creeped in. How could I know that I threw the right ones out? Maybe I didn't. Just maybe I threw the fresh ones out instead. I went back to the stove and felt each egg with my lips - yep, they were all hot. I went to the garbage and felt each egg with my fingers - cold. You think this would be enough. A gryffin flying through the room with a banner wouldn't be enough. It was a done deal. I put the "hot" eggs in the fridge Friday night. They're still there.



An ex of mine who I am friends with sent me flowers for my birthday a week or so ago. They're pretty nice, lillies or Tiger Lillies or something. They have a distinct, but not necessarily soothing smell.



I manage to choose all the Suicidal Braggs Apple Cider Vinegar bottles. I opened the fridge door and the third Apple Cider Vinegar bottle jumped off the shelf, plastic cap hitting the floor, breaking, and the sound that I've come to accept like discovering lice in the hair and knowing there is a task ahead....glug glug glug glug.....



I speak to it while its happening. "There you go. All over the floor. Yep, keep going, smells great." And it would smell great if my kitchen floor were a salad.



So now we have the dying Tiger Lillies fragrancing the air and mating with now the Alpha Smell in the room, ACV. Their offspring is like the hot couple having an ugly kid. Nasty. Humanling can smell it from the furthest point in the house before she's even savvy to what happened.



That's not the point of the blog though.



Said flowers are going past geriatric and losing their teeth and hair and dropping what I assume is pollen all over the only appliance in the house that the cat can't scale. The flowers are not from :doot: by the way. I think he would have sent something but 1-800-CANONS was not blasting on a timely schedule.



I decided that I would clean my kitchen today...I mean REALLY clean. So after making the Humanling some food and making some veggies for later, I left the veggies on the stove to cool. I went over to the appliance, wet paper towel in hand and decided it was time to clean the curry like mess that the flowers left. After doing this, I realized that I HAVE EXPOSED FOOD IN THE ROOM!!!!! I never covered the veggies! Of course they aren't really close to what I was doing, and a visual inspection laughs in my paranoid face showing me that if there are indeed particles, I can't see them.



People have weird fears. This is life with me. If you can read all my posts and still think I'm cute, then we need to hook up. I had to look back and forth and estimate really, what direction any pollen could have gone in if it became airborne. Then try and remember the velocity at which I wiped it off. Was it fast? If it was fast, it could have flown. The paper towels were wet though. They should have been at least the top of the line of mall security on this scene.

I did what I normally do after most of these episodes. I wrapped the food up anyway and put it in the fridge to contemplate it a bit longer. About 20 minutes later I'd convinced myself that it's fine, nothing went at a ninety degree angle and targeted my collard greens.

Two hours later I start doubting my deducing skills. Maybe I did wipe it fast. Maybe it was airborne. Should I look up Tiger Lillies?

Tomorrow I will do what I have actually become better at over the last year - eating it anyway.

Its a good thing I don't hunt. I'd be looking at my animal saying, huh. Is this the animal that I just proved my archery with? That's my arrow - it has my name on it. Someone probably took it out of my arrow pouch and stuck it there 2 days ago and left the animal out in the sun to bloat.

Let's hope I check the OCD well enough in front of the Ling so I don't pass it down. Thankfully she is past the age when I first started!

I'm going to bag up the freshly made popcorn in the kitchen. I know I made it tonight. I think.

Rehab

Does anyone else have this sort of system?

Something 'weird' or gross happens with your dishes and you have to set them aside for 'extra' washing or attention? Like for a month? This is what I call rehabbing my dishes.

We have a lovely rehab program here at OCD Camp Shades. Dishes usually show up with moldy food or other disaster, and due to the fact that I can't stand waste (as in throwing these things out), I have to rehab them and gently bring them back into the wild.

That is my current group of patients up there.

I can tell you what happened with each of them. The white plate accidentally got caught up in it. A vigilante. An Angel saving other dishes from the trash and the fertile mind of mine that sees germs currently unknown to science on them. It only serves as a holding base for the rest of them.

The clear pyrex bowl is a victim of lentils hanging out in it for a good number of days (probably close to 14 of them) outside of the fridge. With curry. I'm afraid of lentils and legumes when they are out of the fridge. They do weird things, things with gas. I don't know what they are emitting but to me it has to be hazardous.

The tipped over plastic spongebob cup is from about a month ago when Humanling was sick and used this cup.

The mini glass with spoon in it was found under my bed, about 2 months after use. I think there was soda in the glass and the spoon was found suspiciously close to an old jello pudding cup after Humanling's boxing round with a seizure. She had a migraine on that weekend and I was happy she'd eat anything at all and probably lost the spoon and pudding cup in the excitement.

Last but not least, I could really use that lid. I have one lid in use now and would love to have the other one available. However, with my old kitchen set up, there was a catch all for things that fell off my stove that wasn't convenient to pick those things back up from. A month ago or so, after about five months of things falling back there, I finally pulled them all out....including this lid. It may have had a spot of food on it but I'm not sure. It looked like bird poop (one of my top five fears) but that is just the powerful negative part of my imagination, trying to mess with my strong positive side.

Rehab conditions usually go like this:

Item has been sitting around in a Putrid state.

Master of Rehab Program finally stops ignoring item and rinses it out then places it next to the sink with water and soap in it.

After an undetermined amount of time, item is rewashed (always with paper towels and soap).

Item is finally trusted to go into the sink amongst the active population that is in circulation.

Item is washed day after day with paper towel until the program director finally decides it is now a harmless citizen and throws it into the dishwasher with the active population.

From there the item never leaves the ride, but stays on for multiple rounds in the dishwasher as new loads are activated.

Item finally goes off the sabbatical and is reunited within the cabinets, ready for use!

Easy!

Anyone else have some nutty system they want to admit to?

Vaudeville Egg Dance

I love the internet.

Humanling and I are friends with the eggs.

(Imagine Droopy dog's voice)

I am happy.

Animal Wrongs (aka WTF, Cat?!)

It's another OCD dinner night. Humanling and I walked back from the library (why do people stare? Is it the scarves & mittens? Are we a bit anxious to acclimate to the season's dressings?). It's time for a light dinner.

Eggs? Sure.....

until I stick them in the bowl of water and then one end bobs back up. So are they bad if the WHOLE egg floats or if one end bobs back up? I don't know and my laptop was walking in bitch tracks so there was no easy access. My mother, the Non Beets Maker (who claims that she did - but she also uses a fry daddy so I don't trust that kind of propaganda) would probably just sigh and chalk up yet one more odd thing of mine to my father not being around at the right times. So I didn't call her. She has courage. Just opens the egg carton, CRACK, cook, done.

Not me. I pull out the bright lights to look for cracks, the bowl of water that gives tinier cracks away and tells me if they float. Or sort of float.

I put the eggs back. I wasn't sure and didn't want to throw out probable eggular innocense.

I ended up making gluten free, grilled soy cheeses. With a side of salted ketchup. (How is my blood pressure 98/60? Must be all the eggs I put back in the fridge.)

That worked out well. I then put our little display of triangle and square finger sandwiches out.

And then SHE walked by. The Devil with the bumper car antenna that sticks up in the air scraping along the side of the plate as she walked by. I can still hear the sound - Sccccrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

Well half of the plate was still good. I gave that to Humanling. My throat still hurts from yellling at the devil. It's not enough that I shovel her offenses to the olfactory world into the garbage constantly. Or feed her. Or trip over her because she thinks my every move is another can of cat food. She has to completely ruin a dinner that she wouldn't even eat!

Well, let me tell you. Her plan was ALL IN VAIN. Because I'm not rushing to the cabinet for the soft Psssssh! of a cat food can opening. She has food and water and I see her Scccrreeeeeeeee and raise her an absence of a Pssssssssh!

Irony Chef

Dannnnnng. My OCD has molted and returned out of the sand stronger than ever. It's a good thing this only happens once in a while.

The OCD nemesis has snuck up and camphored Miss Shop Organic & Local, Don't Waste and Don't Buy New Unless Necessary.

Tonight is one of those food nights where I throw out everything that I start to make. And it sucks. I suck altoids come to think of it. But not cinnamon. Never cinnamon.

I cut up some raw farmer's market cauliflower for Humanling and I. My idea was this - a plate laid out with slices of boiled egg, raw cauliflower, slices of banana and apple. I started to boil the eggs and then cut up the banana and califlower and noticed that the apples were kinda stewing in something brownish. Ok, no apples. An all white dinner. I put my cauliflower with raw garlic and apple cider vinegar. I'm not a raw foodist unless its fruit. I don't like eating things raw out of the ground - mostly because of OCD. My secondary reason is that it simply tastes better cooked for me.

Upon peeling the eggs, and peeling off half of the layer while doing it (what's the trick anyway to not whittle the egg itself down to a yellow mound with a thin layer of white around it?) something bothered me about the smell. I could smell maple syrup. Only I was peeling eggs and the syrup was safely behind closed fridge doors. Now I used up all the eggs on this. So I threw them out.

It's ok, there's still cauliflower and banana. Hey Humanling! We're gonna do something CRAZY tonight! First half dinner now and second half dinner after we go to the store and buy apples and eggs! And then have those!

I whipped out a new brand of organic peanut butter that I'd bought to lay down with the bananas. Why the torture? Why do I taste things first? Why didn't I treat my last marriage like this before proceeding? Peanut butter was completely stale. My brain is hardwired to have sympathetic taste buds for HL. There was no way in hell she was going to eat this. Yeah, maybe your parents or my parents woulda done this or that but I'm not doing it. I'd rather she not shun peanut butter for all of God's version of eternity because I forced the Foulness of Stale upon her.

Garbage.

Ok, here. A plate with bananas and raw cauliflower. {Huge smile of deceit and falsehood. } Seeeeee? Doesn't that look great? When you're done with that, we'll hop on over to the grocery store and get the rest!

Three bites into it. "The cauliflower tastes funny."

Probably because I soaked it in vinegar to 'clean' it.

..........

Ok, let's go.

..........

So basically, most of that went into the garbage as I told her how fun it would be for me to make pancakes when we got back!

I sliced up an apple for her as a snack (which thankfully didn't have bird crap on it or a spot of anything that would send me into a panic ripple).

Then I started to make the pancakes. *Note* Never put the egg in last.

I cracked the egg into all of the only gluten free pancake mix left within a Not Going Back to the Store radius. And it stunk. Only you wouldn't know it.

Unless you were me and sniffed the inside of the egg shell. Because that's what I do. This is my life. I am not caught doing this ever. The reason being, there's nothing to catch. If someone is in my house while I make eggs, I announce that I'm going to do it. And laugh it off like we all do it. Ha ha ha.

It smelled fishy to me. Forgive my being out of school for 20 years or so but the genus Hens Aquaticus got past me.

Garbage.

I trodded back into where Humanling is patiently waiting for dinner and announce that There Has Been a Mix Up on the Pancakes.

"We're not having pancakes." She says sounding bored.

So I offer the very eggless gluten free mac and cheese or the other gluten free Chinese rice noodles. Then scooped her previously uneaten cauliflower and threw it into a pot with more veggies and am cooking them.

Seriously. I can't stand my CSI of the Culinary Brain issues. I find it hard to believe that I haven't stabbed myself to death out of annoyance during these episodes. Of course, with my luck there would be something like raw egg on the knife already and I'd live to find out about it.

Many times I can stand up to it and say No. I'm not doing it. We'll just take more probiotics or we'll just eat it to prove that it's fine. But then there are nights like tonight where I cry Uncle in one swift egg sniff.

****On an end note after I posted this, I went to finish making the mac & cheese and found that the foil packet of 'cheese' slipped onto a burner that was on. Not enough to burn it, but enough to cake it up inside and smell funny.

Cheese. Garbage.

{Me presenting bowl of food to Humanling} "Um, hello. Well, there was kind of an issue with the cheese."

Humanling: Did something else go wrong?

Me: Well yes. The cheese burnt inside the package BUT (this part said really fast) I put a lot of butter in there and salt and ripped up tiny pieces of soy cheese to melt in it!

***The bottom line - I hear her spoon furiously clinking against the glass bowl. I have managed to feed her dinner again, by the graces of God.

Scurred!!!!

:doot: must have some idea of how lucky he really is. How often does a guy get to put on the cape and tights for constant rescue missions?

He goes for five years not hearing from me and in less time than it takes to conduct an online search, I am bombarding him with my paranoid questions. He had my issues at "Hello".

On Monday I believed that I had a moldy infection in my right lung. He - that's right HE cleaned out my car on Sunday. Humanling had clothing in a bag and on top of it, managed to leave behind all half consumed bottles of water upside down in the back seat. On top of it, she's nine. So she isn't going to airtight the cap...just close it *enough*. So the equation of plastic bag + clothes + leaking water bottles = moldy upholstery. I removed the bag and some of the water bottles, but he removed, cleaned and organized everything else in the 90 degree heat and without gloves!!!

The next day I was convinced that the *blip* I felt in my lung was a sure sign of mold inhalation. I tripped over myself along the well worn cyber path and ran this by him. He felt fine. Ok, well maybe he is just stronger than me. Maybe my body simply saw a mold spore and succumbed. Or not. Because I feel fine now. On Monday it wasn't funny though.

He dealt with this as if he was born to.

Or when we open a bottle of something and the seal doesn't 'pop' at 89 decibels. If its a lazy pop, it bothers me. I need a nice, crisp SNAP! when it opens.

He assures me, this is fine.

As when I call him because I've read that CT scans, MRIs and X-rays cause cancer and tell him that I might have had a ct scan once...and many dental x-rays and now I can't eat and won't sleep for a long time because I'm paranoid that this is true in .4 cases and may be as high as 1.5 cases.

Or does *this* taste weird?

Or the drop of *something* that landed on me while we walk. Or the possibility of it.

In fact, the more he laughs at my many opportunities of demise, the more satisfied I am that things are really okay. The day he worries along side of me, I will probably drop dead of a heart attack.

Right now I am mildly uncomfortable because I ate something with BBQ sauce and curry and there is a bitter residual of taste in my mouth. So I start wondering why that is. He can tell me exactly why, pull me in off the ledge and make me feel like I've visited the Guru at the top of Mt. It's All Better Now and It Never Was Bad To Begin With.

I have to pop quiz him here and there to ask if he is going to be able to put up with a lifetime of this. His perfect answers don't miss a beat.

Dormant love sucks. I am beyond alive again.

Peanuts, Popcorn, Cracking Up

I don't know that you can read this bag, but its a bag of roasted peanuts IN the shell. How do they salt peanuts that are on the inside of a shell? No idea. What I do know is that we had a few of these last night while lying in bed. Humanling, being born of an extremely privledged era, never had to crack the shells before. We thought it would be fun in the way that buying a jiffy popcorn aluminum tin that puffs up on the stove top would be fun.

Shuffling around the kitchen tonight (yes shuffling. I am practicing so that when I'm eighty I have it down to a science) I decided to check out the peanuts since I'm in a munchie kinda mood. I took the first one out and it was one of those male ones...without the hourglass shape. Just a lump of a shell. I didn't feel like expending much energy on that so put it back (for who? Its just me and a nine year old up in this place. If I can't open it, next in line is the fire department down the road. Or my Organic friend. She's eerily strong and I feel like a complete infant trying to open a jar around her.) and took out a female. And a feather. A Farking feather. Holy carps alive.

Now I know we have a down blanket in the bedroom where we were eating the nuts last night but how can I be sure that this is OUR feather? I never see feathers in the bed. And I shouldn't see them in a bag of nuts, although I will say THANK GOD they are in their shells. Now I know why the back of the bag says "Good Source of Protein".

What I had a hard time doing after finding this nightmare to my soul in a bag, was following the happy bag's instructions to "Sit back, relax and enjoy!"

Um, no.

Was the feather to FAN myself while eating the peanuts? Was it to stick in my Yankee Doodle hat while not calling a spade a spade, but calling it Macaroni? Was it to tape to my wall so that I could imagine that I was on an island somewhere while eating my salted inside the shell peanuts and a seagull is flying by and drops a nasty arse feather into my lap?

I must have my OCD under some kinda control because normally I would have thrown the bag across the room and then waited for a friend to come over and clean it. Or go pick up Cavey sometime this week and have him throw it out.

I'm afraid that this whole incident is going to drive me to wash my hands fifteen more times and then have a cookie.

Utopia in the Kitchen

What a beautiful and refreshing cold-ish day it is outside. Did I mention that I have wicked OCD? Ok, "wicked" might get me involved in being destroyed by those who seriously have it worse than I. Which means that they are CLEARLY more intelligent than I as OCD is supposed to be some sort of Flag for Geniusness....isn't it? Did I dig myself out yet?

My humanling is creating a movie. In doing so she needed a roasting pan (easy since I have cheap ones that I no longer roast in because roasting starches creates acrylamide...always looking for Utopia in the Kitchen), a bag of marshmallows (that item did not pass the Director's Cut so she will have to do without. Any child who claims that they "need" a whole bag of mini marshmallows for filming only must think that I was hit in the head by a 16 oz jar of sauce. Which has happened once. Imagine bringing Ragu with you to the ER for show and tell.) and paper plates.

Her movie is The Angry Vacuum Cleaner. I hope she doesn't use the new one. I just got it. Unless its ANGRY that it was only $20 at Walmart as opposed to the awful stinky vacuum cleaner that belongs to my ex's grandmother. I suppose I could have changed the bag (full with cat litter) instead of purchasing a new device. It just seemed easier somehow. My mind would be wild with what is floating out into the air and being inhaled by me while changing it. If I do it outside, the wind is sure to carry it straight into my lungs and I will be the host for something that I am cool doing without at this time. Oh sorry, the title is "Mean Evil Vacuum Cleaner" and it is now on right now and torturing the already clean floor.

I've had two Match.com Daddy-Os ask me how my weekend is going. That's an intial consultation. Would I walk into a job interview and be all "Sup Execs? How was lunch?"

I've noticed that the most paw pokings come on early Saturday evening and Sundays. MySpace is no better. Only there the guys don't have to cover up and be polite to attempt to get where any good porn worth its ragged cover would get them. Frequent Friend Requests usually show up with a tag of "You're hot.", "I like what I see", "Do you date 23 year olds?". To that last one, I sit on my hands, lest I reply with "I am currently divorcing a 24 year old". True story people.

Every thing that breathes in this house is waiting at the moment for the dishes to be done. I can't peel, cook, chop or anything until my Sani Cycle has safely landed my dishes into my Happy Utopia. I almost had a break down earlier when I noticed that the Sani Cycle button was NOT activated. How many washings did I subject us to? Time to buy more probiotics. We may run out after that.

Humanling is done hammering my utility bill with the On and Off switch of the Clean vacuum that I care enough about to rinse the dirt cup. I see clearly now that I really don't have that relationship with the old vacuum. It appears that there are no useful knives for martial art of good nutrition for another 15 minutes. Which means for 15 minutes I will hear the sounds of the Nematoad..."HungryHungryHungryHungryHungryHungryHungry..."

I must divert this activity with a nice bath for her. Right after I scrub the tub clean enough to drink milk out of.