This Is What You Get When You Just Let Your Brain Leak Out Onto The Page

This morning I lay on the kitchen floor, all skiwampus, (someday I'll have to post a dictionary of all the made up words I inherited from my mother), and told Andrew to just leave me there to die. Why? Because there was Sunny Delight all over the kitchen table and it was dripping into an enormous puddle on the floor. I could not take it. Why?!? Why does my house have to be in a constant state of squalor? I must be doing everything wrong. I think this is the reason that flame-throwers are not available to the general public. It must also be the reason that so many mothers are on meth! That's what I need; a good dose of methanphetamine to get me going! Actually, what I really need is just a good night's sleep. The past few days I've been up way past my bedtime fixing the refrigerator, a window, the swamp cooler, and my baby's eating habits. So tonight there are no projects unless another gadget or appliance goes haywire, so I intend to be in bed at 8:00 with a unisom in my system to make sure I don't lay there thinking about the bathroom rug that needs to be washed or all the weeds in the yard or the hours of transcribing I have to do on my grandpa's personal history. Crap. I just had to think of that. Now there's no way I will be able to go to sleep without having worked on that. Thanks, blog. Ah, I do have date night to look forward to tomorrow night with Andrew. Thank you Matt and Kellie! And when you get here, please do not open my bedroom door, because that is surely where I will dump everything that needs to be hidden to make the place suitable for viewing by family. None of the closets are big enough.