Hey Look! It's a post that's NOT about my back!

It's about how pharmaceuticals can make life bearable when without them, you are in agony. It's about how boring life can be when you can't do what you want, when you want. In other words, I'm soooooooo boooooorrrreeeedd. I can't think properly, so the reading isn't going so good. I have managed to start selling things on ebay though. How fun is that? People are paying big bucks for stuff I don't want anymore! I haven't quite figured out the shipping thing though. I think 'oh, this is small. I should be able to ship it for $5', then I get to the post office and he's all 'that'll be $10.50', and I'm all 0-o? (that's my confused face)

And I called a water delivery service to get the pool filled. Um, no. I refuse to pay $1000 for water. So I pulled the hose over and dropped it in and it should be full by August. My water usage isn't metered. I pay $56 a month whether I use none, or say, 23,000 gallons. Which, coincidentally, happens to be the amount my pool holds. So, at the rate it's running now, it should be full by mid-May. I am being considerate and only running it at night (only because I like my neighbor and want her to have water pressure during the day).

Let's see, what other trivial minutiae can I enthrall you with? Did I mention the boredom? and that my thought processes feel like they're under water? Am I making any sense at all? don't answer that. humor me.

The illustrious Betty Boop is going to the vet tomorrow for a pupectomy. She is the victim of an immaculate conception. That dog was never out of my presence the whole time she was in season, but I swear she's pregnant. Her little belly is all poofy and she's eating like a little pig. She has to be spayed no matter, so we'll see.

Remember when I was going to get a tattoo on the inside of my wrist? Of course you do. Well, I'm glad I didn't. Because for some reason, now when I see the word "BREATHE", I see BREATHE. See it? EAT. Now that I've seen it, I can't unsee it. And I need no reminders to eat, thankyouverymuch. Wouldn't that suck? Especially to have it permanently rendered on a place that can't easily be covered. So now I'm thinking of using my meditation mantra, which is "Let It Be". Maybe I'll write it on with a sharpie first, just to make sure. Thoughts?

OK, I'll put you out of your misery. I'm out of miscellany. Peace.

Mama needs some new ink

SweetieDarling will be 18 in a few weeks. She wants a tattoo. *sniff* I'm so proud. I've been pondering a new tattoo for myself for a few months. I want the word "BREATHE" on the inside of my right wrist, because, you know, sometimes I forget. To stop and just breathe. My right hand is my dominant. It's the one I see when I reach out stroke my sons' cheek, or when I clip the leash on the puppy. It's what I see when I'm reaching out in anger or gesturing to make a point. It's the one that leads in throwing a punch or snatching someone bald. If I'm about to fire off an angry e-mail, or throw something in frustration, perhaps I'll see it there "breathe" and stop for a second, and breathe, and think about it. Maybe in the mad rush that is life, instead of shoving piglet's backpack and snack into his hand and hustling him out the door, I'll see it and stop for a hug and a smile. Maybe it will remind me to slow down, calm down, sit down. Perchance even to breathe.