I feel like total shit.

I’m tired.

And bitchy.

And I’m sure you’ve heard it all before…

But here it goes again.

I don’t want to write. And you know what the best thing is about working for yourself? If you can call this working. Ha. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. You are your own boss. So ya know what? I’m not going to blog tonight. Even though I should. I really should write about my day today…and tell y’all about my Pilates class. I take this killer, kick ass…hard core Pilates class. And I went to a new class today….

All the women were actually discussing the people who work at Harris Teeter. I shit you not. The women were actually talking IN DETAIL about each of the employees at the Harris fucking Teeter. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. They knew every single employee, what they look like…their names, and what department they work in! Jesus. I was seriously feeling bad about myself. Like I needed to get to the grocery store more often, and make some more meaningful relationships. I needed to bond with my Deli Counter turkey slicers. Am I a horrible person because I don’t know the name of the man who restocks the bananas in the produce section? As I was on the Reformer, I wanted to die. I tried not to burst out laughing as the sweet lady next to me went on for 20 minutes about the girl from Croatia who cuts the free bread samples. I love it. I am a bad person. And I’m going to hell. Tomorrow, I’m going to Harris Teeter, and taking Polaroid pictures of each team member. I’ll make flash cards, and learn them like I know my own children. I obviously don’t grocery shop enough. I need more food.

I mean, don’t you want to hear about that?

My day. Myyyyy daaaaay. Can’t you just see me saying that, upside down…hanging over the side of my bed as I type. My mouth hung open. My eyes rolling back in my head. Myyyyyy daaaaay. Blaaaah. Ya, it’s Spring Break. And all my friends are on fabulous vacations. Tammy is on the beach, drinking froofy-fruity drinks. And Jen is in Scotland. Ah-ma-zing. And Sue, she is in DC. FUN! Me, I’m here. Bored out of my fucking mind while I beg my kids to go to the mall with me. Come on, you guys! But no, all they say is, “Mom, it’s OUR SPRING BREAK! LEAVE US ALONE!” Truth be told, I bribed them into going to the car wash. That was our big outing today. I told them we could stay in the car. For real, I did. I told them we could drive through at AutoBell, and thank Goddess…they let us, for four bucks. Dang, I would have lost an arm. These kids are vicious. Vicious I tell ya. On Thursday, “Fun Mark” is taking them to Spring Training with the Tigers. I don’t know why I can’t go. Jeez. Mark said I wasn’t invited. Whatever. I have better things to do. Bigger fish to fry. I am totally busy. Who needs them anyway…

I am bitchy. And crabby. And I’m not writing anything tonight. Nothing I have to say will be sweet. Or pleasant. My mom says, “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say it at all.” Well, I think I’ll take Trish’s advice, and shut my pie hole. Pie. Yum. I haven’t had a dessert, or a piece of bread in 2 weeks. Bar Mitzvah diet is in full swing! Maybe that’s why I’m such a bitch. Good thing I decided not to blog.  ;)

xo j

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