The following was originally posted Tuesday evening. I pulled it because I thought it might be a little too much disclosure. I thought some more, and upon reflection, I thought it would, at least, be mild entertainment for some of you. Then I remembered a chat David and I had on Saturday, where it was said, "Once they've seen you with no clothes, they've seen you naked."
So...
All day long, without me realizing it, I wore a mismatched pair of socks, and, unintentionally, I wore two shirts. No big deal in the grand scheme, I'm sure, but I have to wonder, am I crazy?
Of course, if you think that thought at all, something prolly ain't right in the noodle, but aside from having the thought and bothering to write it down here, and the fact that my meds are making me groovy, am I crazy?
The scary part is that if I indeed am going crazy, I'm pretty aware of it. This is like having ringside seats but without getting to leave when the action is done.
Yeah, I doubled the other med last night/today. Doubled is dumb. But that's what the guy who gets $250 an hour said to do.
I've been fired up about today for a couple weeks, because I scheduled a light day of work. Then I get here, and it takes me a freakin' hour to make cornbread. No big deal, right? Well, I'd just made it about an hour earlier, and I still had half of a pan left when I made the new batch.
Noah is out driving the kids around in the trailer behind the lawn tractor. He's driving them around, because after I picked up the babies, I went out to the baseball fields, because Noah has a game tonight. That was 5:45, his game is at 8pm. And he's still at the house anyway. Good grief.
I was never a fan of The Doors until today.
4 comments:
Welcome to my world!
No one has offered me medication because, apparently, absent-mindedness comes with middle-age.
How did I miss the fun part, that stage in life after dealing with the responsibilty of children, and before forgetfulness and creaky joints set in?!?
Hugs from Mom
The difference between being crazy and not is that crazy people think they are normal. Kind of like the guy that's a dick: Surely he doesn't walk around, thinking to himself "Man, I sure am a dick!" No, he thinks he's the nive guy and all the nice guys are the dicks.
Not sure if this makes sense, but it's funny to use the word "dick".
Bwwahhhh haaa haa ha!
With love, from my meds to yours
The fun part for me is the kids. Right now, I can hear Noah singing over the noise of the tractor.
When I dropped off Reanie at school this morning, she gave me the customary kiss, and then ran off to do whatever they do. I stood there looking through the window for just a bit. She saw me and came running back with her lips puckered up for a kiss from all the way across the room. She gave me a kiss, said, "Bye Bye, Daddy" and ran off again.
Sure, there are times when the whine coming from a snot-nosed kid is grating, but singing farmer boys and bye bye Daddy kisses are worth a little snot here and there.
David,
I had scrambled eggs with some green beans and corn mixed in for breakfast. I've had buttered bread the rest of the day.
Am I really what I eat?
Hmm. Good question.
Not sure that my answer to that will be good viewing for Noah.
I would say, though, that "bike racer" and "buttered bread" are 2 phrases that don't go together. Unless you're a tour rider (as in Grand Tour, not rally)
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