And then the phone rang.

So today started off as your normal crappy, running late for work and the dog peed in the floor kinda day. Nothing too out of the ordinary, I got my usual 10 minute nap in on the way to work and was kindly awakened by the horn on the tractor trailer I was trying to share a lane with. I could have gotten mad at him for being selfish and not wanting to share, or for waking me up when I just wasn't ready to wake up yet, or I could just be grateful he woke me up because I was about to sleep/drive past my exit. Thanks mister trucker.

I have been unusually tired this week because my stomach has about returned to its previous state of constant flux, reflux that is, foamy spit that burns my throat and unfortunately (or misfortunately) burns my nose holes. My stomach is, once again, a total mess. I don't know why, nothing too stressful in my life right now that I can think of. My wife is recovering from abdomidable surgery, my daughter has a sinus infection, the economy is collapsing, a depression is on its way, a hurricane in Ohio blew a good portion of my roof to Kansas and Toto didn't even send me thank you note. Gracie is pushing the limits because she knows she is being monitored by dad more than mom, my mom is in a rehab center yet again with a walnut sized hole in her foot, I think I am coming down with either irritable bowel or Crones disease because I blow brown water out my bung hole 15 minutes after each meal. And to top things off, I got a ticket for an expired drivers license on my way to my church which, by the way, is in the middle of foreclosure proceeding. Nope, nothing stressful going on here for the last few months.

Speaking of that ticket, I got a phone call today from the Maineville Clerk of Courts. She called to thank me for my prompt delivery of my check with my ticket enclosed. However, and you knew there would be a however, however, the amount of the check was incorrect. I thought $71.19 was a strange amount, but I just kinda figured that if I multiplied the number of civil employees times the cost of breakfast at Denny's I would get $71.19. Well the price of hash browns and toast must have gone up because the number circled on the ticket was 71.19, but that's the violation code, not the price of the infraction. The ticket was actually $120 so I still owe $48.81 for my crime. And while this nice lady, who sounds just like Mrs. Butterworth by the way, has me on the phone, she also requested that I bring a copy of my current unexpired drivers license with my second check. I took both the copy and the check to the Village Building of Maineville, which is about the size of the Starbucks in the mall, and deposited them in the drop box. No one was home because the village shuts down at 4 PM. (4 minutes till Whapner, yeah) I will be calling Mrs. Butterworth to ask a few questions tomorrow, if you dont hear from me again in the next few days it means they sent the S.W.A.T team after me and I have become a matter of National Security. Homeland Security will be the ones detaining me. My new address will probably be Guantanamo Bay, Cuba.

All this background noise is taking its toll on my psyche. I feel tired, I feel ugly, I feel like the pooper scooper in a bull fight. I feel as ugly as H. Ross Perot in butt less leather chaps, lacy panties, a fish net bustier, red lipstick and a long blond Lady Godiva wig. (Folks, now that's just ugly) I feel tie a pork chop around his neck so the dog will play with him ugly. I am so tired I expect to wake up to see a man in a face mask with two paddles in his hands who keeps yelling "CLEAR" (thoomp)

But,

BUT,

Just about the time I am ready to waller (country word) in my own self pity something always happens. Something like running through the parking lot at Skyline after kids night because the alligators, crocodiles and penguins are chasing us, "run daddy run, OOOOOOOooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhh they got you!!!!!!!!!"

The giggles that take place during this type of play have the power to chase away any thing that my be bothering a person. My ankles are still burning in pain, I will probably sing three choruses of Blue Hawaii tonight before Elvis leaves the building and my 401K will still allow me to retire at age 114, but tomorrow I will get up, trudge along, and do it all again.

Slow but sure, slow but sure. I have to go do some laundry now because yesterday the dog peed on Angie and I really need to get that sweatshirt washed, ( got her hair too)