Just when I had my plans for world domination all figured out, I had to go and find this.

Drats.

Looks like I'm in need of Plan B! Anyone know an evil chemist? I'd specifically like to (a) be split in two (b) freeze time to get more done in a day and (c) make myself invisible from time to time.

Current Mood: Alarmed

We've got drugs, drugs and more drugs.

And a teenager with an attitude.

My life is complete.

Between our visit last week to the doctor and our visit just a few days ago, I think I walked out of the office with an entire prescription pad full of medications, instructions and notes to the school on what the Middle-Guy can and cannot do.

Thank god for the iTouch I got for Christmas. I was able to load up all the details (yes, my friends, organization!) because I damn straight needed an agenda to keep track of all the different times the kid needs to be medicated and all the different requirements for each one.

So, this morning being the wonderful mom I am (no, that is not sarcasm, I really am wonderful  ) I got the Middle-Guy up early enough to get ready for school and eat breakfast - one of the meds specifically says, "take with food."  Of course eating breakfast is not the top priority of my teenager when a few more minutes in bed is the option - which led to the following conversation two minutes before the bus was due to arrive:

ME: "You aren't suppose to take those two little pills on an emtpy stomach."

MiddleGuy: "I didn't. I took it with Vitamin Water."

ME: "That's not food. Take a granola bar to the bus stop."

MG: He left the room (I'm sure there was eye rolling, but I can't be positive)

ME: Followed him. "Toast? Cereal? You still have two minutes."

MG: Back in the kitchen he takes out the Corn Flakes in a tupperware container, flips open the lid and shoves his hand inside. One handful of flakes gets shoved in his mouth. He smiles. "Cereal. Done."

Why do I bother?

We go back to the doctor next week to check the progress with the new meds. I'm thinking of asking for a little something for myself

Labyrinth ~ n ~ a structure containing winding passages through which it is hard to find one's way.

Today's Word Goal ~ 800 words

Today's Coffee ~ Vermont Country Blend

I have now officially reached the age of weighing what's worse - the problem or the cure.

Two weeks ago I had my very first visit to the gastroenterologist for a few things, among my complaints? Hearburn after the gallons of coffee I drink daily and at night after the Lindt truffles I pop while watching my favorite TV shows. I should add here that I have NO intention of giving up either one of these routines.

To the doctor's credit I think he immediately picked up on my stubborn nature and didn't even mention taking a break from either offenders to see if my symptons went away. Instead he went straight for his trusty prescription pad and scribbled away. He also gave me a few samples to take home and try first.

The first side-effect on the bottle? Headaches. And they're not kidding!

Honestly, I'm not getting the point of these pills. The headache is so bad I want to gouge my eyes out with an ice-pick. Sure the heartburn is gone, but it went away with half-a-dozen tums too and at least I was getting calcium with those babies.

I go back to the doctor next Tueday to report on my progress - question - do I lie and tell him "hey those pills are great!" or do I tell him I'd rather stick with the fruity flavored tums?

And don't say to stop drinking coffee and eating chocolate. I'd rather die.

glitter-graphics.com

Last night I had the pleasure of shopping at local WalMart around 9pm. Feeling quite pleased my holiday purchases I'd carefully selected and placed in my cart, I walked to the cashier closest to the exit I would use to leave the store.

Unbeknownst to me, I got on Scrooge the Evil Cashier's line.

Not only did she grab at my items as I putting them on the counter while complaining with each and every item that it was time for her to leave and she had to hurry, therefore I needed to hurry and get my stuff out my cart asap - but she threw them in the bag without a care and few loud thunks.

When it was discovered that one item was unmarked, she tossed it to the side of her register and proudly announced "I can't sell you what isn't marked."

Um...wtf?

Politely, I asked if we could call someone from that department. She said "No."

I politely commented there was no reason to be rude to me.

She replied, "There is no one back there. You are my last customer, why does this always happen when I need to leave! I'm not calling anyone."

I asked to talk to a manager about her nasty attitude.

She called someone named "AL" he walked by and she said "this customer wants to talk to you about my bad attitude."

To which "Al" replied, "haha, it's the holiday season." AND WALKED AWAY.

So not only did I walk out of the store an unsatisifed customer and without the item in question - but I discovered Scrooge is alive and well and she's a cashier at Walmart Store #2915 at the register right inside the garden center.

Merry Christmas.

Bamboozle ~ to deceive; to confound or mystify

Would you believe my son is 18 today?  I can't! The day he was born doesn't seem that long ago, all the milestones from crawling to now driving...my little boy has grown into a man. Excuse while I go get my tissues...waaaa...

Would you believe I got at LEAST 20 mosquito bites on my ankles, arms and neck in less than 30 minutes? And to make matters worse, I got them standing in front of my house last night defending my 15 yr old to "code enforcement" for the heinous infraction of playing with his airsoft gun with a group of boys at the park. Oh my...what will our youth think up next to terrorize the neighborhood? But do the police come when the teenagers are drinking and shooting heroine in the park after dark? NO. It's much easier to pick on kids playing - because they are the real troublemakers, right?

Would you believe I've joined a group blog?  This one is small, should only require one blog a week from me (I think I can handle that ) and combines my love of paranormal romance, writing and being a mom. Stay tuned, I'll have more details as we get more organized - but I can tell you when we open the doors I'll be giving away a copy of my paranormal Christmas book "Her Knight Before Christmas."

Hope you have a great week!

Just in case you haven't figured out that I have a few quirks, today is one of those posts that will enlighten you even more to my odd ways.

Here it is: I hate shoes. I'd go to work in my slippers if I could. And if I'm not running around outside in my slippers (I go through several pairs a year) I'm wearing nothing on my tootsies - yup bare feet.

You would think that running barefoot through my Grandmother's yard when I was four and stepping on that bee would have taught me a lesson - but no. I'm still seen running through my grass and even hopping on the hot pavement all summer long in my bare feet.

(In the winter I go out in my big fuzzy slippers, much to my kids horror! I guess standing at the bus stop with elephant slippers or leopard print slippers isn't a good thing? Maybe it's the fuzzy robe that completes this ensemble? But I digress...)

I still remember the sting of that bee on the sole of my foot. I remember my Grandfather using a tweezer to pull out the throbbing stinger, the foot soak and the bandage they wrapped around my foot. And I remember the "talk" about running around barefoot.

Guess that lesson fell on deaf ears.  Here I am 40 years later still doing the same dumb things. Only now - it's the mosquitos that are getting me every chance they get. Today I sit here typing up this post with both feet up and covered with calamine lotion.

Why?

Because I've got mosquito bites all over the soles of my feet and around my ankles. These bites are my reward for sitting outside keeping the hubs company while he smokes his cigar. I sit and talk, talk, talk and those damn bugs bite, bite, bite!

I'm thinking of investing in citronella scented foot scrub and lotion. (Because it would just be too difficult for me to cover up my feet, right?)  AND if I cover up my feet - how would anyone see and appreciate my predicure - courtesy of the hubby? (Yes, girls, he polishes my toes! )

I wonder if this will teach me? Or maybe I can work this into a story...

When is it time to stop beating the dead horse? Yes, that horse is my current manuscript that if my poor crit partners see again, they may stage a mutany and kick me out of the group.

The bulk of this 85k manuscipt is done, has been for a long time, but it's that first chapter that is dragging me down.

It's the old "where do I start" dilema. I know, I know, I hear all the time - start with the action, start with the character that has the most at stake.

It's not like I haven't tried. And believe me, I've set this baby down so many times and taken months away from it thinking I'd see the light when I came back. - WRONG.

To make matters worse, I absolutely adore this story. I can't let it go. (Not like I let anything go once I latch my teeth into it - ask my family, they'll agree I'm like a pitbull with a bone and I absolutely, positively MUST have the last word all the time!)

Okay, you writers and readers out there - what grabs you about the beginning of a book when you pick it up? You want action? Great dialogue? How about the dreaded prologue - Do you skip them?

So, just because I feel the need to be tortured over the next few weeks, I joined Candy Havens challenge to get some revisions/new words done on this - because I AM sending it out soon.

Today's goal? 1142 new words or 17 pages revised.

Wish me luck.