OH MY GOD...
I GOT AN AWARD!!!!!!!!!
Just minutes ago (I am still quivering with excitement) I received notice from myself that I have just awarded me the MARY ANN DEBORDE AWARD for consuming the most caffeine within a 30 minute period while typing a new post! Can you believe it? (this could explain the quivering)
I never ever in a million zillion kabillion years would have thought myself a potential candidate for the uber prestigious albeit little known MARY ANN DEBORDE AWARD. Oh Em Gee. This award, or so I've informed myself, is a pinnacle of artificial achievement in the field of amateur bloggers everywhere (or at least within my living room).
Furthermore, I'd like to thank all the little people who have made this possible, namely my two cats and the stupid fruit fly that's been bugging me all day. Also, I want to assure my readers that I will continue to uphold the stupendous standards I have set for me, which mostly consists of writing whatever the heck I feel like, when I feel like, and trying to remember to use Spell Check occasionally.
Still furthermore, as an honorable recipient of the MARY ANN DEBORDE AWARD, comes the additional responsibility of someday getting around to actually drawing and uploading a bunch of goofy graphics, mainly because people like pictures (often of cute animals, or animals being cute, or cute beings dressed up like animals).
SOME day I promise, by all that is HOLEY, to learn to use Photo Shop, Adobe, Acrobat, Dingbat, Deadbeat, etc etc ... unless there is a new episode of The Office on T.V.
So in conclusion, thank you self, for blah blah blah, I am touched, humbled blah blah blah and now I need to get off this stupid computer and do some real work for a change, like the laundry. God, I hate laundry. There's a load of whites in the washer (no lie) that's been in there four days now. So of course I've gotta wash it all over again (there goes my Green award. Sigh.). Now I'll have to chip the clothes out of the laundry tub with an ice pick. I just hate laundry that much. I mean, the washing part isn't so bad, it's the stupid drying and folding and sorting and hanging and all that crapola. But since I'm the one with the uterus, it's my job to have to do. Right. Like the other morons in this family can't spin the dial and pour in a cupful of soap. They hate the drying part as much as I do. That's why we have lint the size of small wildlife dangling out the dryer vent. I suppose I get to vacuum that up, as well. No one around here ever vacuums, except maybe during a total solar eclipse. Then, when I do cave in and drag out the ol' Hoover, the family gripes about the noise. They can't hear the T.V. (insert sound of major, life transporting artery bursting in brain). Well gosh. I'd hate to drown out the sound of the latest Burger Barn commercial. I KNOW! Next time I vacuum, I'll rev that baby up like a '65 Harley and see what happens. Don't mess with the menopausal, is my motive here, folks.
Seriously, I've got so much I need to do today, and here I sit, amusing myself on the pc. I (YAY!) uncovered last night a stash of funny stuff I wrote a few years back, and I'm trying to get some of it posted. Why, I don't know. Is anyone reading this? It looks like it, but I don't get much feedback. I feel unloved, unwanted, dejected and alone. Wait. Maybe that's just gas from the vats of caffeine I've drank all morning long. Hard to tell.
Major sigh ;)