Yet another day in the life.

Oh, Lordy mercy. This morning I threw my neck out.

I guess that's the correct phrase. This morning as I was sitting up in bed I turned my head to the right and reached for my glass of water with my right hand. Then I died a slow and painful death.

Actually then I had an intense burning, fiery, the-devil-is-giving-me-a-shoulder-rub-with-his-charred-burning-hands sensation in the left side of my neck and shoulders. It was almost as cool as hitting myself in the face with a shovel. I somehow managed to put the glass of water back on the table and lie there thinking, okay, I can't move. It was like, I was capable of moving, but when I even thought about it the sensation got worse.

I somehow reached over and got my cell phone and texted Jason, yes that's right I texted my husband who was in the kitchen at the time, and said, "I'm dying. If you want to pay your last respects come back here but don't expect any sexy stuff because I can't move." Actually I just said, "Come here."

So eventually after aspirin and rest and a heating pad, my husband left me there alone, immobile, in the bed. I decided that I didn't want to lie about in bed all day, but when I tried to sit up, the pain was just too intense. So that's when my genius that I inherited from my mother kicked in and I thought, I'll just roll out of bed. Simple. So I simply rolled myself over, falling out of the bed, and narrowly escaping slamming my face into the corner of the nightstand.

What you don't know is that I used to be a guest-star on the Benny Hill show and that's where I learned all of these righteous comedy techniques.

Anyways, I managed to get up, managed to get towels and get the shower turned on, and then I stepped into the shower.

And then I slipped and fell down, right on my ass, in the shower, alone in the house.

When I later talked to Jason I said, "And I could be there still, drowned in the shower, and subsequently your water bill would be OUTRAGEOUS."

Now go and read this for a laugh.

P.S. Heard at work: "I'd rather be a good liver than have one." Also, "I'd rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy."

So if last night's post made no sense to you, that's probably fine. Basically I had to argue with a collector about how much I could afford to start paying on a debt and she kept throwing all these different numbers at me even AFTER I had agreed to start making payments at a certain amount until I started getting really dizzy and had to pass Jason the phone. All this was the result of the fact that the screen on my old cellphone stopped working which led me to answer the phone when a collector called, GAH I would never answer the phone for a collector otherwise, you all know me better than that.

Now I have a new phone and can resume screening.

The best part of the collector debaucle was once I agreed to start making payments, she was like, "Okay, now you'll have to pay a $5 fee for each one of these electronic debits." I was like, "Um, can I just mail you checks for these payments?" She said, "Blahblahblahprettymuchno." So I was like, "Okay, I am NOT going to pay you to pay you." I realize that it's only five dollars, but there have been many times over the last several months when I would have sold Ida to a Chinese restaurent for five dollars because I needed the money so badly; I am not going to pay a collection agency five dollars so that I can pay off a debt that is TWICE what the actual debt used to be, with that extra 100% being fees and fines that will go to THAT DEBT COLLECTING INSTITUTION.

I don't know if I'm being clear; suffice it to say that when I said HELL NO I WON'T PAY YOUR $5, that's when the conversation started to decline and I started to have trouble seeing straight and understanding what she was saying.

So anyways, I saved a whole $20 on that one THANK THE GOOD LORD.

Next week I'm taking on the mortgage company, so just look out.

I now have a new phone, so feel free to call and text.

The screen on my old phone stopped woorking a few days ago which resulted in my bawling like a baby today after trying to deal with a bill collector for about twenty minutes. When I started to feel like I was going to pass out I handed my headset- the only way my phone was working- to Jason.

Then I went out and bought a phone.

He named his pirate Captain America.

So we are only a few weeks away from Jason's birthday, our anniversary, and Reed's birthday. Oh, plus Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's Eve. It's my busy season.

I'm feeling slightly more optimistic because at least I'll be able to buy people some presents, however small.

Reed is experiencing his last throws of toddlerhood, I can tell, because the fits have gotten few and far between but also about 782 times more intense, sudden, and unpredictable.

He actually threw himself onto the floor in Target, plenty of people looking on, because I "wouldn't" let him "pay" for his pirate ship. What ACTUALLY happened was he threw himself into the floor, I stood there cheerfully saying, "Now hop up so you can pay for your shippit!" and he screamed and writhed, totally ignoring me. (He was calling his pirate ship his "shippit". I don't know.) I looked at the cashier, smiled, and stepped over my child who was rolling on the floor of a public place, wiping his face on the floor because he knew that I'd have nightmares about it for weeks- he's a smart little dude, after all. Then my mom and I drug him out into the parking lot, forced him into the car, and sat and let him shriek and cry for about five minutes.

After a few minutes of that, he suddenly and without warning smiled, asked me politely to take his shippit out of the box, and after I handed it to him he giggled and played quietly with it until we got to Cracker Barrel.

This life is so bizarre, so crazy, that sometimes I totally skip writing about some of it because I know that it sounds made up.

Ah, a year's worth of posts.

This is my 365th post. If you start reading my blog today and read one entry per day it will take you one year to read the whole thing. Of course, I'll keep posting, so it will actually take you longer, so it's actually meaningless.

Anyways, this post is coming from my Mama's house as our internet has finally disappeared. Phone and cable had been cut off long ago but the internet stayed; I assumed we were picking up someone else's wifi. Alas, no it's gone, so our internetting will be few and far between.

This week I am working on another article for Lipstick and continuing the job hunt.

Also, it appears that my check card has been stolen. I have no idea when it happened as we've had so little money I haven't even attempted to use it in about two weeks. Now it's suddenly not in my wallet.

I'm glad bad things rarely happen to us, so when bad things like this happen I can manage to be all, "Oh, well. It's not that bad. At least the rest of my life is going swimmingly."

I am consumed again with worry about the same thing I was worried about for most of the spring and summer: Kane and Jude.

A couple of experiences that were relayed to Jason by a family member have him panicking about sending them back to their mom's house; he's worried that he made the wrong decision, that Kane and Jude will be harmed somehow by that decision.

I feel sad that Jason is so worried, because I know exactly how he feels: I have often wondered and feared if it was a bad idea to send them back with their mom. She and her husband have a lot of problems, and I am only referring to the obvious, clear problems that we can see that they have. There is no telling what all is going on under the surface that we don't even have a clue about.

Now our lawyer is getting messages from their lawyer asking when we are going to "make arrangements" to pay child support. It isn't clear if he is referring to current child support or backed child support. If it's current, we've been paying it, and either their lawyer doesn't know what he's doing or they are lying to him and telling him we haven't been paying. If it's backed child support, I can't believe anyone is still discussing it. While I am begging for a job, any job, and praying for unemployment, they are driving to Texas to buy SUPER-FANCY ULTRA-LIGHTWEIGHT JEEP DOORS, for Pete's sakes. DRIVING TO TEXAS IN A GAS-GUZZLING JEEP for new doors, for fuck's sakes. I can't get over it, so just don't expect it.

Anyway, this life just keeps getting scarier and more bizarre every day, and I don't see any signs of it returning to normalcy. Lindsey and I often joke that this, this right here, this is just our lives now, and we should just get used to it.

I just don't know. I am still seeking employment to absolutely no end whatsoever, while the kids' mom and step-dad don't have to work, will never have to work, on account of they're too crazy to. Yet they feel like this makes them better candidates to raise the kids because they can "devote 24 hours a day to the children".

It's all a mess, and it's making me feel ill. Maybe I need to seek lessons on making the government think I'm too crazy to work. At least I know where to look for them.

Originally uploaded by buffpuff

We took Reed to the zoo for the very first time yesterday. He REALLY loved it. We only got around to about half of the zoo; he is a little person with short legs, plus it was hot we were sweaty, so after about two hours he asked if we could go home.

I have come down with the plague, complete with sinus headaches, chest pain, and mouth-breathing.

These past few days I've spent a lot of time with a couple of girls who I don't see very often. I'm sorry for the circumstances, but thankful for the closeness. It has been really nice.

I watched the presidential debate last Friday with friends, and we all raised our eyebrows or chuckled or pishawed at the same parts. I particularly enjoyed how McCain's eyes bug out when he gets pissed off. This Thursday we're watching the V.P. debate with the same folks, and I'm excited about it.

Still no job-offers. FOR THE LOVE OF SHIT. I did, however, get to visit wonderful Bug Tussel, Alabama today. I want to move there.

I haven't been sleeping well anyways.

Reed has learned how to climb out of his crib.

I cannot make a big enough deal about this, can't get across what a huge change this will mean for us. I'm pretty sure that he forgot almost as soon as he learned, but that means that we are that much closer to turning his bed into a big-boy-bed, that much closer to The End of Sleeping at Night for Mom. Like, POOF!- Now I lay awake at night listening for any noises that indicate that my child has padded into the bathroom and is drowning in the toilet. Or has wandered into the kitchen and is sticking his soft little hand down into the blender while pressing the "frappe" button. Or has gotten into mama's gin. MY GIN, REED. MY GIN.