When Life Throws You Shit...Get Married and Have Babies

I feel like absolute shit lately. Shit. S. H....well, you know how to spell it.

The good ol' ball-and-chain was here again today...to pick up the youngins.

The boys and I were have a fun little morning. They were riding their trikes outside...until she breezily strolled in with her pent up ball of passive-aggressive, bi-polar-like, easily irritable, whoa-as-me...whatever the fuck it is that best describes her behavior.

Here like fifteen minutes, and it seems something inherent in me sets her off. Puts her in some kind of bad mood.

Put another way: There's just something about me that pisses her off.

And so when I found that person, I married and made babies with her. Good plan, Jim. (*note to self on things to avoid doing in the future.)

I seem to be talking to myself more often in these posts. Maybe because nobody talks backs...except for the bottomless hole of a void where a loving heart resided, filled with loving lovable love thoughts for life, the world, learning and, and, and....

And so, welcome back to the Writing as a Life Line blog, where I write. Often about writing. And plenty of rants about my wife, who will no longer be such in the not too distant future. Of course, it goes without saying, it is all her fault, as she ever so gently made clear in her usage of what may be the lamest in ultimate cliched dumping-your-significant-other lines: "It's not YOU. It's MEEEE." True story. She said that. That it happens to be true in this instance is of little consequence.

So when I say today that I feel like shit, I want to make it clear that I am not being literal. Shit has no nerve endings and cannot feel, so it would be literally impossible to even know what shit feels like, since shit is incapable of feeling. Shit, in this instance, is, of course a simile. If I had, on the other hand,  said "I am shit," that would have been a metaphor.

I feel like shit because I have something of a cold today. It started yesterday. As I noted...er, yesterday. Add in my wife and her behavior around me and in front of my boys...again, when she is around me. More shit. Throw in a dollop of missing my boys, and a pinch of guilt for feeling ever so grateful for a short reprieve from the madness of the three year old mind. Still. More. Shit.

But it's all OK. I took an awesome afternoon nap, made myself some half-assed but tasty burritos (nothing says happiness quite like refried beans), took some drugs, and squirted sodium water up my nose.

I now I have my coffee next to me and some time to myself to think and write.

But, perhaps, today's most significant cure for feelings of shit, both physically and emotionally, was watching Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog. I can't believe I have just today watched it for the first time. Brilliant.