wednesday wandering

Do you suppose people realize that when I suddenly stop walking to have my coughing fit, it's because I need to cross my legs so I don't pee myself?

Four weeks seems a little long to wait for the report of Ace's dyslexia evaluation. Are they having it scripted by monks and illustrated?

I feel like I have Niagara Falls pouring down the back of my throat all day long. It's been over a week already, please congestion, just go away now.

Last week I noticed that only one of my car tires is showing wear along the edges. How does that happen exactly?

Is it wrong to feed my kids the same thing for dinner four nights in a row if it's home made chicken rice soup? We're all fighting colds here, soup is good for that right?

When I cough, my chest emits this this wheeze that sounds like Muttley from the Penelope Pitstop cartoons.

Why can't the people I work with read my mind? There would be no misunderstandings then and all would be done the way I want it.

I got up the other morning to find that the dog had raided the tissue filled garbage can, leaving nibbled and shredded snot rags all over the floor. Can dogs catch human colds? It would be deserved since I had to clean that mess up.

I really wanted to write something with more depth but my head is still full of snot and meaningful thoughts are getting buried under the weight of it.

The squirrels ate a hole right through my Rubbermaid Deck Bench to reach the bird seed they have been coveting. It's time to break out the airsoft guns and dispatch a little trespassing justice. I scored that damn bench at a yard sale for 25 bucks. Damn squirrels.

An article I read yesterday mentioned there were only 82 days until Christmas. Shopping for cough drops I noticed the store had Christmas supplies out and they were putting up decorations. I know retail is desperate but there should be a law preventing Christmas decorations before Halloween. It's wrong.

Ace has to wear that protective shoe on his foot another two weeks. I'm not sure who is more frustrated with his inactivity, him or me. Fifteen year old boys need to be outside doing things lest they drive their mother crazy.

Giggles came home the other day announcing that she had gone to her guidance counselor because she wanted to change her math class. She was having issues in that particular class. I'm glad she felt empowered enough to take that step even though I told her there would always be classes that annoyed the hell out of her. It's school. Now she's happier, clearly showing that her mother is completely ineffective helping with all things math related.

We watched the movie Taking Woodstock the other night and suddenly I was melancholy for the days of Grateful Dead concerts, moccasins and incense. When I said as much out loud my kids looked at me like I had lost my mind. Sigh.

I finally caved in to the fact that I needed bew bra's and dragged my husband shopping with me recently. After walking into the store I realized one of the women working there was a casual acquaintance. I accepted the fact that I was about to have my boobs measured by someone I see fairly frequently. I suppose if one has to be felt up, it might as well be by someone familiar.

Not only have I gone through what must be five pounds of Ricola throat drops in the past ten days, my use of panty liners has hit a new high since menopause. Damn menopausal bladder and my lack of Kegel strength.