Welcome to my world!

My life's been crazy since my Daddy moved in with me immediately after my mother's death in October 2010. My one and only kiddo headed to college at Carolina at the end of August. So...I lived on my own, for the first time in my life, for a total of a blissful six weeks. Then, I started the parenting gig with my dad. He's a combination of a grouchy old man, a surly teenager and a temperamental toddler. Needless to say, I get very close to the brink of insanity sometimes. I get through life by finding the humor in difficult circumstances. And for some reason, I wind up in the weirdest situations. I couldn't make this stuff up. So I wind up having lots and lots crazy adventures which make great stories to share with my friends. Writing about my life is so therapeutic. My ramblings range from funny to sad to angry (full of cuss words) to sweet. While my focus is dealing with the trials and tribulations of being a parent to my Daddy, I have lots of random, totally unrelated posts. Whatever's on my mind. I love to make people laugh, and I'm happy to think my readers will get my strange sense of humor. And maybe, people who are in my situation will be encouraged. That's all I can hope for...

Friday, October 19, 2012

The Land of the Living

I'm back in it.  After fighting the flu for a week and a half, I finally had enough energy to get a little exercise in with my girl, JoJo, this morning.  An hour and twenty minutes of running and walking, to be precise.  The weather's beautiful, so in spite of my coughing and snottiness, I made it.  I'm hoping the exertion will alleviate some of the OCD symptoms with which I've presented over the last few days.  I have no idea where that's coming from.  But the way I understand it, OCD is a coping mechanism for anxiety.  And I'm flush with that.  So I need to focus on reducing it.  It's kinda like insomnia, though.  Thinking about it just exacerbates the problem.

That reminds me.  I have vivid memories of Kiddo standing on the pitcher's mound (or in the batter's box), with a fucking-miscreant excuse for a coach hollering, "Just relax, Eight!"  That was his jersy number.  You might think that would sound like encouragement, but you'd have to hear it.  Think about a marine drill seargent trying to get his grunts to ring the bell.  You know what they say...  Winning isn't everything.  It's the only thing.

Oops.  My timer is buzzing.  Which means it's time to put my canned goods in alphabetical order.  Then my spices.


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