Thursday, October 28, 2004

Yet More Indications That I Am Not Well

I just spent an hour writing about my inevitable descent into the murky underworld known as Kookooland (no, I'm not talking about Australia, even though Mel Gibson was raised there), but it was lost, as many of my writings are, due to "a serious error" with Microsoft Works Word. It shuts down, and I lose everything.

So I'm rewriting this, and to be honest, it isn't half as good as the first go around. Oh, and lookee here -- Blogger's on the fritz again and won't let me publish. [This entry was written around 10:00 a.m. -- it is only now going live -- it's almost 5:00 p.m. Blogger can bite me.]

This really isn't helping my desperate attempt to hold on reality.

So not only am I sleep-deprived beyond what any human could possibly handle without completely chewing one's own arm off, but I must deal with the stress of not being able to write freely, without fear, and that's bad. Between the aforementioned, my cough, my hatred of the current administration, I am ready to slip into that white jacket and spend the rest of my days rocking in a corner.

The following incidents are yet more proof:

1) While stealing one of my kids' Halloween cupcakes late last night, I sang a little song of praise to my treat. And as I sang my song in whispery, tremulous voice (cupcake, cup of cake, I love you), I was startled by my oldest daughter's raucous laughter. I whirled around, cupcake pressed against my nose (I smell my food before consuming, though I try not to do that in front of others), and ran from the kitchen, humiliated, full of shame, and convinced that the end is nigh.

Normal people do not sing to their food.

You might be saying to yourself, "Well, that's not so bad," but wait...there's more.

2) Dinnertime can be an especially stressful event in my household -- too many people to feed, all with very specific likes and dislikes, all whiny and tired and hating what I've prepared -- and the night before last was one such stressful time. The kids were fighting, Mr. Butler turned up the T.V. volume to an ear-blasting level, my husband was applying a finishing touch to the new fireplace/entertainment center thing he'd built, and the fumes were making me gag. No one would come get their dinner, so, after ten minutes of repeatedly asking everyone to come and get it without result, I screamed obscenities and threw a porkchop across the room.

Remember now, I'm severely sleep deprived. It's not in my nature to assault porkchops.

Well, that got the family's attention, and they all trickled in, my husband sheepishly folding napkins, putting out silverware, and I continued dishing out food as if nothing had happened. But the T.V. was blasting, the kids still name-calling, Mr. Butler pulling on my sweater and whining for me to "habloo" (which means that he wants me to pick him up -- he's got the vocabulary of a slow twenty-five year old, but he still says "habloo") and I was trembling, seething with rage. My youngest daughter, Ariel, innocently crept up behind me and said, "Is that my plate?" to which I answered with an incomprehensible, shrieking "Indeed!" spittle flying from my twisted mouth.

Indeed? What the hell was that all about?

My husband asked me that very same question. "What are you, a starship commander?" he said.

I am the captain of the Starship Enterprise, and I not only fling porkchops, I sing to my food as well. Tell me that isn't insane.


8 Comments:

At 6:36 PM, Blogger W. Olivia said...

LOL...I'm sorry honey, but I could perhaps empathize more if you didn't have me pissing my pants while trying to read your tale of woe!

Man, now I really gotta come over soon to drink beer...and eye Lar's new fireplace creation enviously.

Later, Mon Capitaine De Starship! ;-)

 
At 12:31 AM, Blogger k1tchenwitch said...

I think if we all sang to our cupcakes, the world would be a much happier place. I sing to my muffins ("girl, you thought he was a man, but he was a muffin. . ."), but haven't quite expanded into cupcake territory yet.

 
At 5:36 AM, Blogger From my window... said...

i also must admit to singing songs...to everything. i believe this is a sad attempt to cling to whatever sanity may be left...
i have even sang songs to my children in spanish and french. this wouldn't be so bad if i had a larger vocabulary. the last spanish song i made up referred to them as small blue kittens with eggs in their eyes...
like i said, i need a larger vocabulary.

i also recall a night of constant bickering among the masses that ended with me yelling, "if you don't stop right now, i will make sure we're all crying tonight!"

needless to say, the bickering stopped.

 
At 12:07 PM, Blogger Ms. Lori said...

Here's a little ditty I sang to my boiled egg this morning:
O egg, O egg
You smell really bad
But if I did not have you
I would feel really sad

 
At 6:49 PM, Blogger MoMMY said...

LMAO! I have ventured on that trip to KooKooland although I call it falling in the hole. (and I'm not nearly as funny when I write about it) Hope you are feeling better soon.

 
At 5:01 AM, Blogger Cassandra said...

boy, ican soooo relate. you are too funny i think i will blog mark you.
hope you get well.
i want to be a starship captain.....

 
At 8:58 AM, Blogger Cassandra said...

I usually post my egypt pictures on tuesdays. I am a lover of all things egyptian as well, my husband is egyptian. So i guess that makes me egyptian by injection....hahahahaha i am gross, anywho, I was there for a month. Thw people were great. we will go back in a couple of years, after we have the next rugrat. YUikes i must be loosing my mind to want to travel that far with an infant again. I blogrolled ya! thanks for comin back!

 
At 12:34 PM, Blogger Jenny said...

Hilarious! INDEED! Thanks for the laugh :0

http://www.threekidcircus.com/threekidcircus

 

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