I have been sick for the past few days. Not horrible sick, mainly worn down, not sleeping enough, mild fever, sinus headache that won’t go away… There’s a lot going on at our house. We have recently repaired a major leak on our lower level (aka, the basement), which created a ton of dust (I am severely allergic to dust, and mold). New carpet is being installed today, and we are in the middle of a much needed full re-do of the irrigation in our yard. I can’t park my car in the garage because they have to cut carpet in there. The cats must be locked up (which they HATE) because I don’t want them underfoot. Contractors don’t like having to deal with pets. I want all these people to just go away. Definitely a lingering side effect of the trauma. I don’t like people in my house anymore. This November will mark the 20th anniversary of our owning this old fixer upper. It was boarded up when we purchased it. We watched the movie Money Pit the night before we moved in here. Very appropriate. We swore if a raccoon ever jumped out of the laundry chute, we would move. We have been remodeling it ever since. No raccoon, so far although there have been lots of raccoons in the yard, they usually keep their distance. Dozens and dozens of contractors have been in and out of this house over the years. I am ready for it to be over.
Now that Wimbledon is complete (my go-to TV for two weeks) for another year, I was flipping through television channels yesterday, hoping some rest and mindless TV would help with the headache, and I ran across the old Disney movie, Snow White. I have mentioned before that Blue Eyes sometimes calls me Snow White. My hair is dark, my skin is pale, I love animals. I do not, however, have one of those Disney princess voices. I was in a weird mood. As I watched Snow White sing to the animals and dance around with the dwarves, I know why Blue Eyes likens me to Snow White. I get it.
The part I don’t get, is how he could leave the sweet, innocent Snow White sleeping in her comfy warm bed, to go have sex with this…
Yeah, I KNOW, it’s fucking crazy. He was fucking crazy. It doesn’t make any fucking sense. I just have to shake my head (smh? finally figured that one out… I am SO old!). How could I not have wanted him to go off to an inpatient program? He needed a fucking mental ward.
Okay, got that out of my system.
Back to your regularly scheduled programming.