25 Thanksgiving Jokes That Will Get You Through Dinner With Your Family

25 Thanksgiving Jokes That Will Get You Through Dinner With Your Family – http://huff.to/1riVAj9

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Unhappy With The Election Results? Just Look At The People Your Neighbors Voted Into Office

Unhappy With The Election Results? Just Look At The People Your Neighbors Voted Into Office – http://huff.to/1tN1cad

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If you don’t vote, extremists win. Pass it on.

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Do your homework on the candidates people and vote.  If you don’t like the candidates, maybe you should run or find someone worth voting for and ask them to run.

You don’t need experience. You’re a grown up and you can learn the job. We need fresh faces. Think about it.

I love the elderly. I do. Little old men are really cute especially. They just say whatever the hell they want, no filter. And while we can truly learn from the awesome stories they have to share, they don’t seem very keen on the advancement of the human race. Most likely because their time left is short.

Just like your District and Regional managers are so far removed from the field that their ideas to solve the problems for people in the field are usually ridiculous, so too are our elected officials removed from the reality of an average Americans life.

We need fresh eyes on our problems.

We need good, honest people, average people to step up and fight for what’s right for humanity.

Vote. It doesn’t take that long. Tell your friends to vote. Seriously, it does not take that long.
 
If you don’t vote, extremists win. Pass it on.

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Did you guys know these schmucks get paid for life?

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Why in the hell would we pay these guys for life? They have book deals and endorsement deals and are paid for appearances. They don’t need the taxpayers money for retirement. I bet you they also collect Social Security. The bastards.

It’s election season kids. Let’s all get out there and fire these jerks.

I would just like to add that if you are against socialism then you shouldn’t be allowed to collect Social Security. So I say, don’t be a hypocrite. If you are against socialism please stop collecting Social Security today. Thank you for your patriotism.

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Your mid-life crisis is going to start at 35, maybe sooner. Probably sooner.

My youngest is 5. Now when you are 5, EVERYTHING IS AWESOME! You know, like the song, which I know my parental brethren have heard more than enough times needed to commit the song to memory. At which point you may feel the urge to stab yourself in the eye. That’s the natural response, no need to worry if you were afraid to talk about it. It’s perfectly normal, just nod and smile, nod and smile. Sneak away for a breather, you’re going to be okay. We’ll get through this.

Today, Five is super excited because he knows tomorrow, his class is going to be given popsicles for snack. He does a dance when he tells you. And sings, “It’s gonna be a pah-tey, it’s supa awesome. Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Side note, Five’s favorite song is Runaway Baby. You should see his dance moves.

So at 5 years old, the mere fact that you are getting a popsicle is a reason to throw a song and dance party. Because as everyone knows, popsicles are NOT on the approved healthy snack list. Please make sure always to cross reference the healthy snack list provided by your common sense, with the long list of things that kids are allergic to these days. Your child may not be allergic to anything, but I heard one second grader burst into flames at the sight of her friends crab legs before the lid was off the cocktail sauce. Who eats shell-fish before 6 p.m. anyway? I mean really.

My middle guy is 8. Between 5 and 8 practically anything can happen. Anything. No. Anything. You could build a zip line from the top bunk to the floor or duck tape yourself to the ceiling for surveillance purposes. I’m not making this up, these are actual suggestions from my son. The sky’s the limit, dream it, be it.

The incredible suggestions or reasoning does not even stop by age 10, oh no. Why, just this morning at the bus stop, Ten worked it out that there has to be fish poop in the rain, BECAUSE the ocean water comes from the rain. IT EVAPORATES! WTF? Are you sure this is my child? This is the same child that told me that 15-7 =10, BECAUSE you can’t subtract 7 from 5 so you just put 0 and then you have to drop the 1 so it’s 10. I, I nearly had an aneurism trying to explain to the child how very-very-very very very-very wrong he was.  Thank god for Xanax. I may need one now, just from re-living it.

You see they changed how they teach math in the schools and those of us who are parenting elementary students have no idea how to right the wrong.  I know the teacher did not tell my child that 15-7 =10, but however she presented the information was clearly flawed because my child nearly drove me to the insane asylum, determined the answer was 10. I in fact informed my children that men in little white coats would be along shortly to escort me away.

This is not new either. The bastards did this to our grandparents as well. The schools introduced “New Math” and then our grandparents had to fight with our parents about it. And since in this scenario our kids = our parents, that means our parents can not understand our point of view AND they are so old now they have forgotten having the fights in question with their own parents, WHICH MEANS they can’t help you.

So at age 10, you obviously know everything. I mean, double digits, somehow ensures you have the correct answer. Fish poop. He forgot to factor in gravity, no big deal.

Quick recap: 5, everything is awesome!, 8, anything is possible!, 10, I now know everything I need to know, I’m good.

Skip ahead to 26. 26 is the magic number because it takes 25 years for your brain to develop into the final product. True story. I read it somewhere. I’m sure it was a reputable source, but I’m too lazy to check. It was a while ago, and I’m old now you see. You’ve got Google, go ahead and check it. Or we’ll just go with “approximately” if you’re gonna be that way about it. Besides between 10-25 it’s all pretty much hormones and rebellion, I think we can agree. Unless of course you yourself are 10-25, in that case you are, I’m pretty sure you are legally obligated to disagree with me, because I’m “the man” in this scenario.  I know, yeah, no. I don’t think I can get away with the “the man”. Respect my authoratAY!

Anywho, 26. One day when you are 26 the timer goes off and your brain is done cooking. So now suddenly the haze starts to fade. You find yourself saying “We’ll gee whiz Wally, I guess Mom and Dad were right about that.” GODDAMMIT!

Now you must go through the emotional turmoil associated with becoming your parents. Every time I say something my mother said to me I want to punch myself. It just comes out. You can’t help it. If you haven’t been there yet, again wanting to hurt yourself in this situation is perfectly normal.  Nobody wants to turn into their parents. It’s okay if you need to cry a little, we’ll wait. Just breathe. It just happens. I think if it happens to you, it means your parent’s maybe weren’t so bad after all, maybe they actually did know some things. GODDAMMIT!

It’s not so bad at first you’re 26, you’re starting to get ahead at work and in life. You’re getting really serious about someone you want to settle down with. The bar scene is old.

So you commit. It’s exciting. It’s an adventure! Especially….. if you’re a homeowner.

Things start breaking. Who fixes broken things? How do we know if they’ll do a good job? Well how do we know we can trust him? Suzie used him? She spent how much? No, no I don’t think so. I’ll google it. Yeah, no, I’ll just YouTube it and figure it out. No I can’t ask mom and dad for money you know what that’s like, they’re worse than the bank. (When did google and YouTube become verbs, it’s like a whole new universe.)

And then you decide it’s a good idea to unleash your spawn on society and you reproduce.

It sounds so icky when you say it like that.

At first the babies are so cute. Tiny humans, that somehow look sort of…. alien like. It kind of feels like you’ve got an alien in there right before you pop. No more room inside you, your organs are all squished up. Tiny feet pushing against your lungs making it hard to breath. Rock Star and his band used to practice in the basement. When they would start to play I could feel Ten rocking out to the rhythm in my uterus. He got the hiccups every day after a certain point. My belly would bounce with each hiccup. Growing a person inside your person is, an interesting journey, shall we say. Not for the faint of heart. Am I right Mommies? Amen.

So now you’ve got little people and all the sudden, they’re walking and talking. They are hilarious, because they are like miniature drunk people.

Then they learn the word NO! Not so cute anymore. Okay mostly still cute, but you better check that attitude mister.

If you kids don’t stop pushing my buttons….”what buttons? I don’t see any buttons? What color are they? Can I push the button? Where are they?” And this is in stereo because there all talking at the same time.

“What do you mean we can’t have ice cream! It’s 8:57! It’s not 9:00!! HOW- COULD- YOU DO THIS TO US!”

“YOU ARE THE WORST MOTHER EVER! I HATE YOU!”

“Hey Mom remember um when you were upset before?…” Do you mean 10 minutes ago, when I said you couldn’t X because we had to go and do Y, and then you screamed at the top of your lungs that you hated me? Yeah…. Yeah I remember that.

Breathe in. Sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Breathe out. Hummmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Breathe in. Sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Breathe out. Hummmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

A wise man once said to me during my first pregnancy. “1 is like 1, 2 is like 2, 3 is like 7.” And he was right, which is how I know he was wise.

And now you are 35. And you have absolutely no idea how you got there. Pure luck my friend. Pure, dumb, luck.

Your doctor tells you now that you are 35 you need to be taking a daily multi-vitamin, calcium, vitamin D to help absorb the calcium, vitamin-C, extra Iron and get a mammogram. And….a colonoscopy. Really? Are you sure you’re reading the timeline right there doc?

You’re walking around in a haze. I was like 12 years old a minute ago, um not really sure how I arrived at this point. Is there like, is there a text-book? What’s a google?

Somewhere along the way real actual physical mail turned into just a pile of ads and email turned into the mail you need to check every 5 minutes. I know this, because my computer at work was programmed to tell me every 5 minutes that I should check my email. I thought it was safe to assume that I won’t have new mail coming in at 5 minute intervals, as I am not a news editor nor the president of a country.

And then your parents start falling down! I actually had to send my sisters a text that said “Mom fell down and she can’t get up.” It was too funny to pass up. I still laugh about it. It was a commercial. Google it.

Yep, your parents are now in their 60s or even 70s. 50% of them are divorced, so there is a good chance that one or more of your parents live alone. Both of mine live alone. My Dad will be 71 in October he live on 100 acres in the middle of nowhere in a log cabin style house. 8 1/2 years ago he had to be air lifted from his house to the hospital. He collapsed while on the phone with his friend. Double pneumonia. His lungs were white. They told me when I arrived that I’d better call anyone who needed to say goodbye to him.

Eight was 1 month old. I spent the rest of my maternity leave in the hospital waiting room. Then I went everyday I could after work. Since my parents are divorced and I’m the oldest, I’m his next of kin. So I’m trying to deal with this new baby and a 20 month old and doctors are calling me talking about organ failure and blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.

Let me fill you in on a secret. You see, an unborn baby is a parasite feeding off of a host. I’m not being mean, that’s scientifically what is happening. An enormous amount of energy that the mother’s body normally uses to function, has now been diverted to grow the baby. Your whole body is in flux , your short-term memory is shot and you have absolutely no control over it. When that much energy is diverted away from the host the brain starts getting a little screwy, especially when you repeat the process. It is a good thing he recovered, because that was probably not a good idea for me to be in charge of end of life decisions at that point in time. M’kay.

He was in a medically induced coma. I had to go to his house and find all of his stuff, pay his bills. He was there for 8 weeks. (While he was in the coma, we gave him a pedi-cure and shaved off his comb over.) Ha ha.

You see kids, it’s not a mid-life crisis because you’re in the middle of your life.  It’s a mid-life crisis because you’re in the middle OF life. You’ve  got these little people at home, and you are in charge of making sure they are not rapists, murderers, or  racists and that they don’t get, or get anyone else, pregnant. That’s not intimidating at all right? At the same time you all the sudden have people working for you who were born when or after you graduated high school. It seems incredible that they could be in the workforce but there they are and you are training them to do your job. The music you grew up on is playing in the background ON THE OLDIES STATION. You have to resist the urge to punch that 20-year-old in the face on a daily basis every time he calls you ma’am. Forgive him, because his mother raised him right. You gave up on religion years ago, let’s be honest, AND all of a sudden you realize you haven’t heard from your Mom in three or four days, which is unusual since she now wants to spend every waking moment with you, so you wonder if she’s dead. So you call her and she’s not dead and now you are stuck talking to her.

Then your old people start dying. My 93-year-old Grandpa passed away the morning of my 40th birthday. Nothing like death to remind you how old you are. Two weeks and one day later, which happened to be yesterday, my 91-year-old Great Aunt died. We had one funeral on the 18th and the next one is the 30th. My Mom’s Dad and my Dad’s Aunt, so a double whammy for my sisters and I. You start realizing how old your parents really are and how you likely need to care for them.

Your parents = your children. FUCK.

Well I am here to tell you friends, that it will be okay. You may have to spend a couple of years on antidepressants and anti-anxiety medications sure, possibly some antipsychotics, but this too shall pass.

Now listen to this.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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What Freedom of Speech Really Means

A wise woman once said to me, ” What other people think of you is none of your business.”

I always thought Freedom of Speech meant you could say whatever you wanted. Isn’t that what you thought? You probably still think it.

Let’s be honest. I can think of several dozen words and or phrases right now, that if I said them someone would get offended or get their feelings hurt or cry heresy. And if speaking your opinions or expressing your thoughts contradicts someone else’s thoughts or opinions then, well what happens then?

A grown up would say, “We’ll agree to disagree. Let’s get some lunch. I love that shirt by the way.” Etc, etc, etc.

But wherever I turn, no matter if I look left or right, no one is saying that.  Whichever way I look, all I see is anger and hatred. Name calling and stone throwing.

What’s it to do with you if your neighbor wants to do something you don’t agree with? Absolutely nothing. Is he doing it on your lawn? Is he forcing you to participate? Probably not, so who cares.

I think we can all agree on the basics, can’t we?

Every person deserves food, water, shelter and love simply because they are a human being. If you don’t believe that then you’re an asshole quite frankly. Odds are I’m not the only one who thinks so.

Every person deserves control over their own body. In what universe is it your business what I do with my own body? You don’t have to live in it. I don’t care what you do with yours, why should I? I don’t even know you.

If you choose to believe that my immortal soul is in danger for whatever reason, why is it your job to save it? Oh right, it isn’t. No. It isn’t. Really. Why should you care? You don’t even know me. I’m sure whatever god or gods you choose to believe in can handle my soul just fine without your help.

It’s not your job to tell me what to believe.I like to think for myself thank you very much. And I don’t care what you believe. I’m not going to worry about what you believe one bit because that’s your business. Just don’t be a jerk about it.

If you choose to be offended by somebody that’s on you. You’re wasting your life worrying about what everybody else is doing. And all that worrying over what Joe Shmo is or isn’t doing is what is spreading the anger and the hatred and the fear.

Just stop. I dare you. Just stop for a minute and ask yourself what you really want your life to be about. Truly. You only get about 100 years if you’re lucky and it takes a good quarter of those just to grow into some kind of sensible person.

How many years do you think you have left? Guess what? It’s a surprise! Did you already know that? Then why waste time being angry and hateful? Because angry and hateful really isn’t fun to hang out with. Seriously.

And if you don’t like what I have to say, who I am, who I love, or what I believe in, I couldn’t care less. I’m just minding my own business, shootin the shit. How’s about you mind yours.

We’ll agree to disagree.

I’d ask you to lunch, but I really don’t leave the house unless I have to. Too many crazies out there. I love that shirt by the way.

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This Math Teacher Running For The Senate Sees Her Bid As A Way To ‘Hit The Reset Button’

This Math Teacher Running For The Senate Sees Her Bid As A Way To ‘Hit The Reset Button’ – http://huff.to/1AjZXQH

Thank you Amanda!!

This is exactly the type of person we need running, no matter the party. We need fresh people to learn the job from the ground up. And more people who can explain the workings of Washington D.C. to the lay people.

Good luck!

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You’re Helping Mark Zuckerberg Become The World’s Richest Person

You’re Helping Mark Zuckerberg Become The World’s Richest Person – http://huff.to/1AgyRLf

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Did you know?

If you have a favorite charity that you like to give to and you need a present for your nephews birthday party why not kill two birds with one stone?

Check out your favorite charity on eBay. They have thousands to choose from, I bet you find at least one that’s near and dear to you.

When you buy something from eBay that is marked with the ribbon symbol that means it’s attached to a charity. If you go to the description where the symbol is and press the button you’ll find out what charity and what percentage of the sale will go to that charity. For example, I have marked all of my sales that 10 percent will go to Alzheimer’s Association.

My grandmother was a victim of alzheimer’s as well as Rock Stars grandfather. And it looks like one of my great aunts is headed down that road. It’s a horrible horrible condition as I’m sure you’re well aware. I don’t think I can name anyone I know who hasn’t been touched by alzheimer’s in one way or another.

The seller can choose to give between 10 and 100 percent of their sales to the charity. I started at 10 because strangely enough no one responded to my request for dimes, how about that? But now that I know that this is an option I hope to one day be able to donate 100 percent of the proceeds, once I’ve got my household finances back in order.

I want to encourage you if you sell on eBay to take advantage of this amazing option as a seller to help your fellow humans and your planet are things in some way shape or form.

I wouldn’t call myself a tree hugger, well I wouldn’t call anyone a tree hugger, but I am interested in making sure that we don’t destroy the planet so that the human race has somewhere to live for generations to come.

I can only imagine what it must be like for refugee to be living in another city or in other country entirely could you imagine being a refugee from Earth.

Anyway you can change the world in a tiny way, starting in your basement, that’s where I’m headed. As I look to sell our families forgotten treasures to others who will be able to still enjoy them I’m changing the world in a tiny way by giving what I can afford at the moment to cause its near and dear to my heart.

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Conversations with Myself

I feel frozen.  Paralyzed by the overwhelming sensation of “where do I begin”?   Mentally paralyzed to the point that just sitting here typing this was a serious, serious effort on my part just to begin the activity.

The thoughts won’t slow down enough to put the  pieces together.  My kids won’t shut up long enough for me to have a complete thought let alone complete the many thoughts that are happening almost simultaneously.  Like they are chasing each other around my brain.

I feel panicky.  I’m taking my pulse but I can’t remember how to calculate the pulse.  The rhythmic pumping of my vein feels odd under my fingertips but not alarmingly fast.  Still, I think a Xanax is in order.  It helps with the sensation that I’m about to jump out of my skin.

In the past 30 minutes I’ve had to get up at least 5 times to keep kids on homework.  Breaks the flow of concentration.

I made a stop on the way home from work.  A small building on the outer road of the highway.  Once the building was a gas station but had been converted into a gold buying shop. I had been there once before to sell a men’s ring I had found in the street.  I assume it was thrown out a car in the heat of argument or what have you.  Today I was there to sell my own things.  One ring was a marquee design of stacking tiny diamond chips that my mother had given me for one of my birthdays or perhaps a Christmas. I never liked it.  More prongs than anything else.  A thin gold band with an oval sapphire with two tiny diamond chips. It never looked right on my hand.  Too small.  A marquee sapphire ring I bought myself with one of my first paychecks, over twenty years ago.  Diamond stud earrings.  Again very tiny. A small solitaire ring.  Only would fit my pinky which just never was comfortable.  That’s the piece I now feel sick over losing. I only got $145 for the lot.  At the time it made sense, I know I bounced a check to the daycare today, unintentionally but still. At least the check is covered.  Of course they’ll be about $70 or $80 dollars in fees now between my bank and the daycare.  And god knows what other repercussions from them.  Now I feel robbed and I’m glad I kept what I did.  I still haven’t taken the Xanax, the kids kept getting me up and down.  Now I really feel panicky.  Desperate times.

I need to start photographing and adding things to my Ebay inventory.  We need to sell everything that isn’t nailed down.  First thing a Mickey Mouse watch my father gave him that has never left the gift box.  He doesn’t wear watches but for some reason has three or four.  I will list them all.  First I need to download the Ebay app.

Why is there an app for everything?  There are so many you can’t count them all.  There are too many choices.  Too many choices is something that gives me the paralysing feeling also.

I just can’t do this.

Why not you’re doing fine.

Fine?  I’m not fine.  We’re in bankruptcy.  We had no choice the medical bills were ridiculous. Dammit!  Interrupted by kid again.  I can’t, okay deep breaths… If we’re not careful we’ll mess up our bankruptcy plan.  I just don’t know how to talk to him about this without tripping the bi-polar switch that leads to the dark side.  And I let it happen.  I let the papers just stack up around me.  There’s so many papers.  And the emails.  I barely read the emails because there are so many junky ones to wade through.  You can’t buy anything without some company emailing you forever after.  It takes forever to  unsubscribe to them.

And the school sends like a hundred papers home per kid, per week, in addition to emails from the principal, school board, orchestra teacher, home room teachers, librarian, PTO and a partridge in a pear tree.  How do normal people do it?

Aren’t you normal?

No! Obviously not.  Otherwise everyone would be in my situation.  my situation is not the “norm”.  Nor is my brain.  I can’t explain calculating volume to my child in a way that he will understand it because my brain won’t let me. I can barely remember how to do it.  I never need to calculate the volume of anything.  What seems perfectly obvious to me is not obvious to him.  It’s a flipping multiple choice question and he will not see the correlation to the problem underneath it.  He will not see that they just don’t leave off the correct answer in the multiple choice format.  And he keeps breaking my train of thought.  I am so pissed off right now and I don’t even know why and I can’t get through to him and it is making me crazy.

I just served bread topped with tomato sauce, Italian seasoning and cheese for dinner.  Baked it for 10 minutes and called it homemade pizza.

I’ve got a vegetable garden to plant so I can trim the food bill.  A house to clean from top to bottom.  Right now siding is falling away from the side of my house.  Underneath I can see the old wood siding.  We have new siding pieces to fix the problem but we need a second body to swing a hammer whilst on the ladder.  I don’t do ladders.  We can’t afford the deductible on the homeowners policy so we wait for a friend to become available.  The retaining wall we’re building in front of the house is sitting unfinished because I can’t afford more bricks at present.

Why don’t you quit smoking, save some money there?

Have you ever tried to quit smoking.  Smoking calms me down.  Makes me feel sane for a short while.  Right now that is worth the expense.  Doctors bills are piling up, not sure if I can afford next months prescriptions.  Smoking is self medicating.  It could be worse I could be drinking.

I’ve been giving up high fructose corn syrup.  But I’ve also been losing by fasting sort of.  I drink a lot of water and tea.  I’m eating about one high calorie meal mid day or just some bread and milk.  Mostly because I want to make sure the boys are fed properly before I eat.  I’m about to give in to the sweet fizzy taste of Wild Cherry Pepsi though.  I’m hoping it will ease the stress.

I could really use some chocolate right now.

Sometimes I wish I were totally deaf so I could block out all the distracting noises.  The four year old won’t eat the pizza toast.  Lucky for him there are two slices of american cheese and still enough bread for a sandwich. Payday is Friday.  We can make it.  We just have to be creative.  Mmmm  Pepsi.  I remember before kids, sometimes I would just cook all the random stuff I could find in the fridge and pantry.  So there would be meals like corn bread, corn, au gratin potatoes and whatever else I could find.  It’s getting to that point.

I’m starting to get a bit hungry.  There are dishes to do and I should do a load of laundry.  And I should bake something for tomorrow’s breakfast.  A piece of bread, a glass of milk and a spoonful of honey sounds good.

Yes it was good.

I really need to do the taxes.  I really need to write that book. I need to clean the house.  I need to make extra money. God I’m so tired. I just caved on cello practicing.

I really don’t want to bake right now. I have a long day ahead of me at work tomorrow.  It will go fast.  We’re having a cookout so at least my lunch is covered.

At minimum I’m going to have to do some laundry.  I have to wear a team shirt tomorrow.

Try and focus.

I don’t want to focus, I want to watch TV and veg out.

Isn’t that what put you in this situation?

Shut up.  You don’t understand.  Being mesmerized by the story on the TV or in a book, it’s the only time I feel relaxed.  The rest of the time I am continuously on edge. Like now.

You can only block out the world for so long you know.

Oh really?  Well the way I figure it, if we are all part of the one consciousness and this life is all a dream,  then the world does not really exist. So what does it matter what I do or when I die if it doesn’t exist in the first place?  That’s what gnaws at me.  The ridiculousness of this reality.  There is nothing that makes sense.  Not really.  Not in the grand scheme of the universe where you a mere speck of star dust in an infinite ocean of black.

 

It’s the next evening now. I’ve been home almost two hours but haven’t been able to accomplish much, a little editing.  I’ve most likely alienated my audience by asking for their spare change.

I’m going to put off the taxes until Saturday.  After a 10 hour day like today I am just not in the mood.  I work the same shift tomorrow.  I want to put the boys to bed early so I can go to bed.  At the same time I don’t want to go to sleep.  I want to watch TV and veg out.  Not think about anything for like an hour.  My back is killing me.  It’s only 8:30.  I have to be at work in a little less than 12 hours.

You should lie down.

I’m going to lie down.

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