Listening to: Nirvana, Bleach
It's been less than a half hour since X took the wee ones for her bit of custodial bliss and my mood continues to plummet. Not for missing my children (that will kick in soon enough) but for the condition of my house looking like Gettysburg after the battle. In my personal samsara, the Catherine Wheel turns such that by the time I finally get everything cleaned and put back into place, the kids will be back. Having seen all The Lion King videos more times than any human should have to endure, I'm more acquainted with The Circle of Life than I care to admit. Except my Circle of Life, spun madly from weekends to weekdays, makes me dizzy.
Hopefully, I'll get a few minutes (and a few beers under my belt) to scribble in my composition book, writing creating the illusion that I'm actually accomplishing something. Oh, the joys of fiction.
Still, I can hardly complain. Comments left on the posts of the last week or so make me feel like the most semi-attractive single dad on the net and that's saying something. Again - the joys of fiction.