May 13th, 2004

Pick One

So which part of my life is now the worst? Is it A) Work, B) Thinking about my dead father or C) Trying to juggle the demands of an estate, an Alzheimer-riddled mother and her tyrannical nurse, my newly-needy brother and extended family members, several commissions, a start-up quilting partnership and a household?
Right. There is no answer, because they all suck crusty moose dick and my mind is skittering around over each of them like a drop of water in a really hot pan.

There is not enough alcohol, Sherman Fantasias and Prozac in the world right now for me.

Excuse me a second, I have to renegotiate a contract that the PHB fucked up, answer a call from my brother, and reformat 25 pages of content, and arrange to take a head shot of the employee of the month. Right. And then, in fifteen minutes, there will be another crisis or something else that I have to jump on and do right this fucking second .

You just know that things are not flowing smoothly when the first response you have to a ringing telephone is to shout "Leave me the fuck alone" at it before you pick it up and recite the party line about "How may I help you".

Gotta run, sweetiedarlings, I smell smoke coming from a fire that needs putting out.