One week ago I hit a milestone anniversary and, true to course, totally overlooked it because 1) I suck at memorable dates unless I’m married to you or pushed you through the lady bits and 2) please see item number …
*Tap tap* This thing on? Where are the damned lights? What the…what happened to my stack of drafts? Why are they all over the floor? And who the hell is in charge of dusting around here? I swear to god I’m …
I was sitting and thinking the other day (dangerous, I know) about change, and just how much change we’ve seen here the last few years. And for the first time, I wasn’t angry about it. I just sat with it, and …
The other day I had to buy printer ink. I tend to run the printer dry, get pissy that printouts have all the color saturation of glass, and eventually make the trek for replacements. After shelling out the cost of …
Just when I think I can’t go any further ’round the bend or even more batshit crazy, I outdo myself. In the midst of building my flute studio and homeschooling and blogging and maybe putting together a presentation for SENG 2016 …
I sprained my neck. Oh, I’m sure I could call it something slightly less embarrassing, like a neck tweak or stiff and sore muscles, but it’s way past that. It’s a sprain. In my neck. There are usually two reactions to such a …
If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all. That’s what we all learned growing up, isn’t it? Kind of a keep the peace sort of thing. This is why I tend to keep my mouth shut an awful …
What do you think of when you think of bullying? Playground taunts? Cyberstalking? Mean girls? Workplace passive-aggressiveness? We’ve been very, very fortunate here in the House of Chaos to have had little bullying come our way. It could have been horrifically life-altering …
My least favorite question in the history of language-based inquiry is “Do you work?” Bitch, please. There is not a woman in the entirety of recorded civilization who hasn’t worked, it’s just not always work that is recognized or valued. …
“Jen? Sweetie? I’m sorry to wake you, but it’s 9:15. What time is the funeral?” I start the long, slow process of dragging myself to consciousness, pulling off the sleep mask and yanking out the ear plugs as I mutter …
