3.25.2013

This year Susan has been finding it impossible to BLAHg.
Impossible.

How can Susan BLAHg when she's got to;

  • argue with the husband about how rude he is to tell her to 'go' after he interrupts her
  • research why her yogurt curdled when she made curried meatballs in a creamy spinach sauce 
  • rub the dog's ears till her fingers cramp
  • explain to her son that he is in charge of his own life and if he's happy with sub-par accomplishments in school then she will just lower her expectations for him
  • interview the under-communicative daughter at length to determine the source of her teenage anxiety
  • Look up the definitions for words from her current reading material, including but not limited to cognoscenti (authority, expert), peripatetic (wandering, roving), leitmotiv (theme), leonine (eminent) 
  • throw out bags of stale marshmallow and expired cans of chicken soup
  • find out what that song was on the radio 
She hasn't even been able to keep up with her bloggy pals' blogs because she has no time for taking an interest in other people. Only if you're standing in front of her will you have the slimmest chance of getting some attention paid to you.

It would help if you were crying or banging a pot with a big metal spoon.

3.18.2013

Susan celebrated the high holy day for her people by freezing her ass off in the street watching the St. Paddy's Day parade. 
The whole town turns out for this beloved public procession; adorable toddlers with grandparents, teenagers with cigarettes, and forty somethings in push up bras, boots and green feathers.

Girls, Susan understands that you're tethered between youth and oblivion, but you've got to get a hold of yourselves.

Susan remembers the shock of being in her forties...but I used to be in my thirties! she'd explain. No one cared.

It took a little while but she ended up really liking her forties; she went from being a depressed stay at home mom to a frustrated working mom, she discovered a secret stash of confidence and learned how to dress properly.

Color, proportion, neckline, hemline in that order.

3.11.2013

Susan had a great time watching this funny movie at cousin Lisa's house with cousin Kathy, cousin Melissa, cousin Jeanette, cousin Danielle, cousin K8, Aunt Eileen, Anne the doctor's mother, and Wild Bill.
Something Susan ate, and she thinks it was the avocado, filled her with gas making her miserable through the next day and beyond. 
Sweet relief, thy name be flatulence.

3.07.2013

Susan is so sick of people talking to her.
Talking and talking and talking. Talking over songs on the  radio. Talking while Susan is reading. Talking while Susan is meditating on the beauty of absolute silence.

Honestly, Susan doesn't care about your dog or the old neighborhood or Obama or who that guy is over there or anything that involves words coming out of your mouth.

Normally Susan loves to talk. I mean, she really friggin' LOVES it. But lately she's had her fill. Right up to the rim. She avoids conversations, even eye contact, particularly with the husband.

She has been sharing one car with him for almost a year. Her car. One car two people. Now the only time she's truly alone is in the shower.
The husband ruins the sanctity of her morning commute by talking through it. He has also revealed a few tremendously annoying habits which she has grown to HATE.

Twenty two years of living together has been no match for a year in the car.

3.04.2013

Susan's mother has requested that Susan emerge from her mental sluggishness and BLAHg something.

Susan wants you all to imagine her rolling over in her cave, possibly even muttering screw off.

Susan really doesn't have much to say lately, her energy and ability to function like a normal person has been sucked out by Acme Sweatshop.

She saw a lawn filled with purple crocuses today, the first inkling of spring. It was pretty exciting at the time, but now eh. She hopes that by next week she'll be enthusiastic about daylight savings, and the week after that by St. Paddy's Day, but now eh

The lady who lives in the house behind Susan still has her Xmas tree visible in the livingroom, that's something Susan almost gets.