Okay, I am completely frazzled. I don't know what frazzled really means, but I think I am there today.
You know I have a problem with routine. Part of my routine is posting once every work day. Well, I like doing that, and if I write more, then I just save the post for tomorrow. With the extra 15-minutes, I can either drink a latte or have sex twice. Just kidding about the latte – I don't like the stuff. Oh, I meant to say, just kidding about the sex thing – because that would not include clean-up.
Well, yesterday, I tried unsuccessfully pimping my nomination for the Really Freakin' Stupid Awards. I wrote a funny piece about it, and because I really wanted someone to read the following post, I think the pimping post got buried.
So here I am for the second day posting twice. And I feel frazzled. Or is that fraggled.
Another problem was that I spit in the eyes of the HTML gods. Yeah, I know, worship no idols before me and all, but because of my amateurish HTML, I completely hosed my site if you were using any decent browser (e.g., anything other than IE). I don't want to go into any technical details about how I got the site fixed, but it did not involve giving a blowjob to my local IT support.
I have been thinking a lot about my Muse lately. Can't help it, because I see a lot of her in me or a lot of me in her. Some of what I see is probably reflective - because she sort of look like me (not physically but overall), I project my situation on your life. So I could be so "off the mark" in this case. So those psychology majors can just chill out.
I did want to say publicly that Muse is very brave. I would have never have done what Musey is doing - I would have been too scared of the results. I am so Catholic in my beliefs; I believe in saving marriages for most reasons, but even the Catholic Church says there is no marriage without what they call "mutual support." But I would have been too scared to have walked out, be it temporary or the beginning of the end.
Being roomies with a hubbie is so freakin' horrible - fucking horrible (yeah, I dropped the F-bomb). It is so horrible for any woman to experience. When that happens, there is no mutual support.
I want so much for Musey to feel contentment every night her head hits the pillow (even though she has those killer legs, bitch that she is). I am not all into this "be happy" crap. I want her to feel fulfilled. To me, being happy is like having good sex. It is great for the moment, but the feeling goes away. Feeling fulfilled is like making love, when you can be carried back to the experience days later, thinking of the experience. It stays with you.
Me and sex. Crap. It all gets around to a little tickle and a change of the sheets.
I am so frazzled today. Sorry for the second post, but I did want to pimp my Really Freakin' Stupid Awards. Tomorrow I will think of something light. Promise. This is post 250, too. Not fanfare, just pimping and explaining myself. Frazzled.