It wasn't too long ago when a cup of tea after a long day would (temporarily) solve all my problems. A glass of wine has replaced the cup of tea. Is this a problem? (Aside from the extra 120 calories per day?)
I ran in a downpour this morning. Cats, dogs, birds, and snakes. (Or at least worms. Ew. I hate the post-rain wormy ground.)
I miss Chloe resting her head on my ankle and snoring.
I can't get enough quality time with the boy. Which consists of spooning, watching movies, cooking dinner, and forcing myself to keep up with him on a run.
I'm on auto-pilot at work. I'm doing it. I'm doing a lot. But I don't care about it. Shouldn't I care about it? Am I $150K in debt (principle balances never to decrease) for something where I don't care about the outcome of a case as long as my work product was up to par?
John and Kate and the Octomom? They should all fall off a cliff. What about the kids, you say? Well, I was never one for the importance of biology.
Heidi and Spencer should also fall off a cliff. Into a river of crocodiles. And acid.
I'm usually ready for winter by July 4th. It happened about a month early this year. Fuck.