Sometimes I am able to control my blogaholicness and do what I need to do. Uhhh... lately? Not so much. Well, I've not been reading a lot of personal blogs. It's the political blogs. And then... when I stay away from those, I'm looking at the news. Or I am researching stuff I don't understand or didn't know about. Let me tell you... that is one deep dark hole for me to fall into. OY!
It's a darn shame that I stay home all day and have laundry piled up. I mean, you know, I could be running loads through as I'm parked on the computer. And I do when I am conscientiously multi-tasking. I just haven't been. I keep thinking... just five more minutes... Yeah, right.
We have three bathrooms. I moved all my stuff into the main bathroom so Mr. Macchiato lays claim to the master bathroom. Ummmmm... I don't go in there. Like ever. There was a problem with the toilet that Mr. Macchiato fixed yesterday (incidentally, I heard some new and innovative combinations of swear words that were quite creative... and a little scary). You know what? I cannot remember the last time I cleaned that bathroom. Our room is clean and organized... but, uhhhh... that bathroom is beginning to rival a Texaco bathroom. It's true and utterly disgusting.
My office? A dumping ground. I can't see the top of my desk.
I'm not going to try not blogging at all. I've done that and I broke out in a rash. What I am going to do is not turn on the computer until after I've accomplished certain tasks... and I'm going to write my posts the night before to be published in the morning.
So, I am typing out this post the night before.
Of course, there is drama going on making it difficult. I went to see Frappacino at her college this weekend and she took me to see the apartment she is wanting to rent this summer with one of her friends. I took pictures for Mr. Macchiato and she sent him a copy of the lease this afternoon. Daddy no likey the lease. He's awaiting a call from the friend's Dad, who is an attorney, to talk it over. The girls, of course, are freaking out because they don't want to lose the apartment. Frappy isn't being unreasonable... it's those quivery voiced calls laced with impending panic... Lord have mercy. I can be an immovable wall when faced with tantrums. Pathetic whimperings... ummmm... Mr. Macchiato, puhleeeeeeze fix it quick!
Double Shot... that boy needs a trip to a big ole woodshed. He has a D in Chemistry. He has not been able to drive in over a month and we took his cell phone away. He can resume driving and get his phone back when that grade is a solid C. Well... now there's been two weeks added on getting his cell phone back after he gets that grade up. Why? Mr. Macchiato hid the phone between the box springs and mattress of OUR BED and when Double Shot and I were at his lung check today I saw the outline of it in his pocket! We cannot hide anything from this kid! In fact, I thought I found a great hiding place for treats on the top shelf inside the mixing bowls... NO! He sniffs stuff out. He says it is because we are predictable. How is it predictable to put a cell phone under our mattress?
Anyway, we've been saying things like... Driving and cell phones are privileges NOT rights. Can you believe he's trying to re-negotiate his punishment because it is not fair. Really? Living with teens is not fair.
Oh! Frappy's apartment is not furnished, which means (if Daddy Pooh agrees to the lease)... HELLO Sewing Room!!! Little birdies leaving the nest is pretty painful. But, it is like pulling off a band aid. You get over it. Double Shot better get those grades up! He NEEDS to go away to college. I am so ready to take the pain!