Utterly Useless Drivel. Remnants, Really. Its My Blog And I'll Be Lame If I Want To.

Its very trendy these days to get dead. So much so, in fact, that its getting tough to fit in the people who insist on living. Do I:
(a) go to daughter #2's soccer game?
(b) go to daughter #1's band recital? or
(c) go to cousin's husband very first viewing?

And how do I plan for
(c) husband's uncle's funeral , the date and time of which is yet unannounced?

Like most trends, it can get wearisome at times.

I've got nothing inspiring to say at all. Every now and again, the beginning of a thought will very nearly come to me, but right about that time, someone generally pees on the floor. Or they need a drink of water because they are having a difficult time with consistently peeing on the floor. Or some sweet baby is crawling through the pee on the floor.

Sometimes for variety, the cat pukes on the floor.

Perhaps its time to give away the floor.
Then I'd have more time to figure out how to schedule in all the dead and living stuff.

*yes, this is a disturbingly twisted post. The truth is that I have developed this disorder (yet undiagnosed) and one of the symptoms is to tell dry jokes that aren't remotely funny, but they have something to do with people dying left, right, and centre. Or flirting with dying. Or talking about someone else dying. Meanwhile, the urgency of living is eating ME alive.
(Clean toilet. Clean sink. Get toddler's hands out of toilet. Wash toddler's hands. Clean sink. Count heads. Count sinks. Slip in puddle of urine. Listen to ridiculous lies about how its not pee at all, but the drippings of an extremely large watermelon. MAKE CHILD CLEAN FLOOR. Wash child's hands. Clean sink. Count heads.......