I hate 'Special' days..

                                No, really. I hate special days.      

       We are raised to think that we are especially special on certain days. Birthdays and Mother's day, specifically, for my intentions here and now. The truth of the matter is that we are no more special on these days than we are any other day of the year, and we all know this.. But it has been traditionally bred into our consciousness, and although we could really give no less a fuck, if even the tiniest attempt isn't made toward being made to feel even somewhat special it ruins our entire fucking day. And we don't talk about that, either. I know! I know.. That doesn't even make sense. Don't recon it needs to, it's just the way it is. 

     

       

           

It's a beautiful day, and I've been convicted to write. I have decided to contact a few sources, and check into freelance writing. Daughter number one got out of jail today, and says she's ready to make a new, better start, She has GOALS. Those are really important if you truly wish to change anything, achieve anything. Here's to hope. 

Got a new puppy, because the one we had, and loved dearly got hit by a car. Second night in for the pup.. her name is Abby.... SHE CHEWED MY HUSBANDS GLASSES! Oh my, this is not going to be purdy. 

Got the boy a brand new bedroom suite, and in the process of setting it up, we find yet another nudie magazine. He's 13. I know everyone gets curious.. and I know that if you ever make the child feel shame for the curiosity or sexuality you can damage their natural self confidence about it... Ok, so how then do I go about making him understand that curiosity is acceptable, but slutt magazines are not? Any suggestions? 

O, one last thing. I might have thyroid cancer.  

It all started when...

I think maybe I'm trying this because it is cheaper than therapy. 
Anyways, here goes. 
I am a 36 year old, mother of three, married to a man that fucked a goddamn dot head, stuck in the house, some days happy, some days not, grandmother of one in CPS, swore to never hate, but have bent a little for dot heads and caseworkers, take a xanax (or more) a day woman. I drink sometimes too. More and more often, come to think of it. Never in excess, any more. Usually just enough to get my don't give a fuck going. I've come to the conclusion, today, that life pretty much fucking sucks. Gas $4 a gallon, grocery prices through the roof, employment scarce, out of control government, and no hope in sight. 
A DOT HEAD? SERIOUSLY? Couldn't you insult me with a blonde babe with big tits and a tight ass? Nooooo, let's pick the woman that always smells like fucking armpits, or whatever that fucking Indian shit is and happens to work for you, and top it off a huge dose of SHE'S FUCKING OLD. 
Yep, I'm here to bitch. Today, anyway. Tomorrow I may want to tell a joke, or be inspiring. Today... I have been beat with the "who fucking gives a shit, it's all hopeless, and then you die" momentum.