Monday, July 17, 2006


I know…I haven’t been blogging. I’ve been trying to find something positive to write about for the last two weeks, but lately the planets don’t seem to be entirely lining up in my favor. I’ve heard many times that I am too sensitive and think too much…like this is a bad thing. I think if more people were that way, then people like me wouldn’t need to take Xanax.

I will start out by saying that there as been no retaliation from any tree huggers. This is good. No Xanax needed.

Yesterday when my daughter and I were driving, something (a bug, I think) flew through the open window and make a tiny little cut on my cheek. I didn’t realize that I had a cut until blood from my face dripped onto my leg. YIKES! Daughter screamed. I remained calm as I always do in emergency situations. I have been trained to do that. I freaked a little at the next stoplight. Xanax: I survived without it.

One of my daughter’s has been having a problem with a bully for four years now. It seems to be escalating. It might be hormones because the school bully is due any day now with her second child. I was hoping the bully would drop out to raise her kids, but since there is a lovely day-care center in school, I just don’t see it happening. How she gets them to school I don’t know, because she isn’t old enough to drive. It’s getting so bad that we may have to change schools.
Xanax: full dose.

Another daughter writes poetry and posts online. She is quite good. Good enough, in fact, that someone was going to steal her work and publish it in a book. We received an email from some unknown author and publisher telling (not asking) us that she was going to “borrow” (steal) my daughter’s poem and use it in a book. I guess we were supposed to be excited by this. After a few e-mails and an aggravating conversation, the thief agreed not to use my daughter’s work. I was irritated by the stupidity of the whole thing and because it was nice out, I would have rather spent the afternoon at the pool. Xanax: half dose.

Despite pleas from the entire family, my 95-year-old grandparents insist on getting their driver’s licenses renewed every year. They rarely drive but have to be able to get to Dominick’s to get more gummy bears when their supply runs low. Last week I was on the phone with my sister who had just rear-ended someone on the tollway and totaled her car, when my grandmother called. Grandma failed her driver’s test because the examiner said she needed glasses (which my grandmother insists that she doesn’t need) and then made my always overheated grandmother turn off the air conditioning in the car. Grandma got so upset that she blew a stop sign. As they were leaving, Grandma tripped over the curb and hit her head on the ground. She is okay, but bruised all over. Last year when she went to get her license, she tripped on the same curb and split her elbow wide open. Two days after failing the test, Grandma went back, put on her sunglasses, told the examiner they were prescription and passed the driving test. She’s happy. I’m worried sick. Xanax: full dose.


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