I've got a headache.
The day started with my dog Sicily killing both turkeys and one of the new Barred Rock pullets. That dog needs to be dead. Dead.
There are too many kids here. I'm on the verge of losing my temper. My youngest is way over-tired. He is currently wailing and sobbing. I ordered him to lie down for an hour, but he just walked past my window outside. Still wailing. If I thought it'd do any good, I'd wail, too.
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I know it's an end of my cycle thing, but that knowledge doesn't help. I feel like everything is driving me insane. The kids are ambulatory mess makers. The fucking Chow is a farmbird killer. I've got 8 pups I have no idea what to do with. I'm fat. I'm poor. I can't seem to write anything for that story contest cash prize thing. Something is wrong with the speaker wiring on the tv in the family room. I need to deal with the IRS. I have too many cats. The chickens invaded and beshitted the garage I just roasted my ass off cleaning. THERE ARE TOO MANY FREAKING KIDS HERE! Neighborhood kids. Using the pool, trooping wetly through my house, sneaking around eating my snacks and drinking my sacred Diet Pepsi. Fuck. Really, this is fucked up. Even when me and my kids are not home, these kids are here.
I've got a headache.
Cetta, while reading some of your archived posts, I ran across a few entries that could be a good starting point for that story you need to write for the contest.
Just a thought.
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