Today is my birthday.  On Monday.  Not fair.  Having one’s birthday on Monday ought to be grounds for an extra paid day off work.

Let’s see, I had a typical woking, single mom day.  I dragged out of bed at 5 am…. etc, etc, I’ll spare the details.

BF had to stay in tonight.  So I am alone, listening to the heater fan rattle.

I’m still sick, just can’t seem to kick whatever this is.  I start to feel better and then wham, it strikes again.

And my son thinks I’m as old as dinosaurs.

About m

My ego wants to think I'm a writer but my heart knows I'm just another one of God's Kids who sometimes has words to say. 2 human kids and 3 feline kids call me Mom. Or Mooooooom. Or mewom, depending which you ask. I'm kinda-sorta busy being a student again; this time I signed myself up for a bizarre torture known as Graduate School. Theoretically in 4ish years I'll have earned some more nice letters to put with my name. Let's face it, I'm addicted to learning and probably need rehab to restore me to sanity and remove the obsession to read books. I don't remember what free time is but I think I like to spend it sleeping or playing in the mud on a river bank.
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