I'm having one of those days.

I am swamped with work.

I've got a toxic frog running around the house. (Chance left the "feed" door open (a.k.a where we drop the bugs) and the creature got out. I think he was waiting for that to happen. I mean, the frog.  Those suckers are smarter than they look. (Did you know fire-bellied toads can live 20 – 30 YEARS?  Maybe I should thank Chance?))  So now I'm searching for a frog and watching the cats in case of frog-poisoning. While trying to work.

My son – whom I love to pieces – is being entirely unreasonable and contrary about mommy really just needing to read email for a sec (or anything else for that matter) undisturbed.  Like peeing.  Or sitting to change channels for said child.  Without being poked (objects of which are promptly taken away – sorry, lightsaber, you are banished) or climbed upon.  And then, son, really?  The delighting in irritating mommy?  Not cool.

I think my period is starting.

The Internet, whom, yes, I was avoiding there for a while, is still full of sad and scary.

Every time I try to work There. Are. Delays!  And about a million emails.  And changes to spec that I find on my own.  (So I'm working but it's completely unproductive work.  Which I find irritating.  Also.)

I still seem to have this going on 10+ days cold.

I haven't gotten to blog about the loudest place on earth yet.  (It starts with a "D".)  Or about the project that I'm all excited about and have yet to start.

I'm thinking about bagging it all, going to bed, and getting up at 4:00 tomorrow to start over.  I know, I know.  4:00 am?  Couldn't you possibly, wg, just maybe, perhaps a little become even more of a bitch, after waking up at so ungodly an hour?

I don't think so.         – wg

Ah, venting… you dirty ambrosial slut of the mind.