I’ve been sick for a week. I’ve nothing going on in my life. And I have nothing to write. I haven’t seen George since I got back from Nassau.  He called me Christmas morning and we talked a while. But nothing more. And then I got a huge urge to go to the diner today so I took the kids there for a late breakfast. I also gave him the little “finger drumset” me and the boys picked up for him a while ago. He loved it and said he has a gift for me. Fruitcake? Who knows. But it was nice to hear that he was thinking of me.

I spent the rest of the day home, running around with Lysol and cleaning like a mad woman. I’m so sick of the dust and dirt in this house and the sickness. I’m tired of the dying Christmas tree that needs to be taken down and the toys lying all over the place. I’m tired of the same bed sheets that have been on my bed for a month now.  And more than anything, I am ready to move furniture around. Do a little feng shui. Redesign the bipolar magnetic field of my surroundings. Create harmony by moving my sofa some where else. As if that were the answer. God. All along, all I had to do was move my furniture around to find inner peace. 

I think i drank too much cough syrup.

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