Last week, I whined about having to wear makeup, having to wear shoes and having to work in general. I had a much better week than this woman. I swear I will never complain about work again. Wearing makeup and shoes, yes – work or my boss, no.
I did have to work with “Perky Blonde” but I was an adult about the whole thing. Sneezing in her face was purely an accident, I swear, and I refrained from spitting in her coffee. Honest.
I met a child, and that made it a good week. I’m hoping Charlie was able to stop obsessing about the brain eating amoeba and have a good week himself.
I got my marriage contract renegotiated – so looks like Sweet Cheeks is stuck with me another year. In another life I must have been very, very good to deserve such a loving and generous man (’cause I know I haven’t earned it in this lifetime).
Darla got me thinking about whether I’m a blogging addict, and what I get out of blogging. I penned a quickie poem (hey, don’t blame me – she started it!!!)
I blog because I want to
I blog because I must
If I don’t write something soon
My brain will turn to dust.
I blog because it heals my pain
I blog to spread my wings
I blog when my heart is breaking
And when my heart sings.
I read a post I could have written
And know we’ve felt the same thing.
I learn some stuff and laugh a lot
At posts that zip and zing.
I read all the blogs I’m following
I check my stats repeatedly
When the stats are up – I glow.
“I can write” I crow conceitedly.
When stats are down I tell myself
It doesn’t matter one bit
I blog for me, and not for you –
But I’m thinking “I can’t write for shit”.
I had a kick-ass week.