I have no idea what day it is but I figured it’s Monday since it is gloomy and spitting rain. Turns out, I was right. I just want to say that I appreciate those who are swimming in the humor. Trying to laugh at a really bizarre situation. I love all of you, who are sharing all the fun things you are doing with your family during this time. This is the “honeymoon” period. This shit will get old and I imagine some with stop posting while others will continue to paint their situation like rainbows and butterflies are flying out of their asses.
I don’t mince words. This blog is real. My family isn’t perfect. My spouse drives me batty. Oh, and the Basset loves to hank my chain while the cats ignore me. But, I love them everyday. Like them most days. And some moments, I live for totally isolation. So, as we travel forward into the unknown amount of time we will be trapped, I mean, gathered with our immediate family, I challenge you to be real. It doesn’t have to be in a public setting. I just do this because my family gives me excellent material. It would be a waste not to share. All I am saying is vent to someone who will listen. This situation isn’t easy on any of us. I am currently listening to the air mattress constantly being inflated. You know, the new one I purchase a few months ago because the old one had holes that Brian couldn’t find. Well, here we are again, folks. That shit is getting old. They spent some time “searching” for the culprits. They believe it is caused by one of the cats. Well, duh, the area the mattress resides in, blocks the entrance to their food and litter boxes, so I would think that would be glaringly obvious. Jesus. Take. The. Wheel. I will tell you right now that I am not buying another one. My resentment to those inflatable beds run deep along with my annoyance to the two family members who insist on having it.
See, I feel better getting that out in the open. I am contemplating taking a large knife and just putting the mattress out of its misery. But then I would have some angry family members. Oh, and I have to learn to be quiet during Bryce’s “class time”. Some of his professors are cool with family members or pets being in the same room. Unfortunately, Bryce isn’t keen on me coming to class with him. He is missing out. I might have some excellent questions or helpful suggestions to make the class more efficient. Whatever. These humans filled with testosterone really don’t appreciate what I bring to the table.