It's dry. Dry like dust, like bone.
And I don't feel too well. I don't know if my body aches because I'm getting sick or if my body aches because I am sick in the head and it's so dry and it's gray but it won't rain and my datura are drying up and why do I care? Those fuckers never bloom anyway.
My boy threw a big ol' fit when his daddy left this morning and that was a first. No, he doesn't feel "himself." He got over it pretty quickly but when he left after his nap he was running a temp again. Poor little guy. He wanted his mama to stay here. He wanted to eat supper. Since it was only three o'clock, that didn't seem like a good idea and they went on home with Zeke sitting up there beside Owen looking like, "Thank God.Get me out of here."
So Jessie will be here pretty soon and I realized that Trivia doesn't start until ten-thirty. At night, y'all. WHAT?! Ten-thirty?
We're all talking about going to the fair on Wednesday night and I guess that would be fun...
Actually, I am over the fair. I don't want to eat that crap, I don't want to ride those rides. I told Hank today that the fair is just so...tawdry. He said, "Yes! That's what I love about it!"
Yeah, well. I believe that much tawdriness in one place is just too much for me but if the entire family wants to go, I'll go.
I do like the chickens.
Could I be more negative?
Well yes, yes I could. I could start talking about Herman Cain again but that just makes me want to chew up a beer bottle and spit glass. And then that stupid Ann Coulter who REALLY NEEDS TO SHUT HER MOUTH said something the other day about how much better "their" blacks are than the "other" blacks, meaning Republican versus Democratic. I guess.
Look- I grew up hearing every damn old Southern woman proclaim that "their" nigras were never treated badly. Why "their" nigras didn't even want to leave the plantation after the war!
Of course "their" nigras were the ones owned by the great-grandfathers of these old women and they really didn't know much better although ignorance is no excuse, really, but shitfire! Ann Coulter? How does she get away with saying this crap?
It's bad enough that she should even think it but to open her red-lipped mouth and say it? Out loud? On TV?
Hand me a beer bottle. I'll just go directly to hitting her over the head with it.
All right. I better just shut my mouth. This is a crazy world and my problems don't amount to a hill of beans and what I think doesn't really matter anyway. My boss is a two-year old boy and he doesn't claim sexual harassment if I want to take a nap with him. That's a good thing. Jessie's coming. That's a great thing. I have running water and could water those datura if I wanted to.
Mr. Moon just got home. I wish I'd sprayed some Fabuloso around so that he'd think I'd been cleaning all day but it's too late now. Oh well.
If he loved me for my housecleaning abilities he'd have been gone a long time ago and that's a fact.