So much has been going on of late that I have curled up into a rather large misshapen ball of unhappiness, flinging glares and middle fingers at anyone and anything that comes into my field of vision.
No, nothing catastrophic has happened. Just an endless stream of smouldering dripping shit from above, melding with crushing disappointments and defeats.
So much so, that the poor guy that sits next to me at work hears nothing but a stream of muttered profanities coming from my side of our shared partition.
And on the days where I am not forced to have human contact, I have sequestered myself from the world, choosing to spend my time screaming at All The Housewives Of All Of The Places on my TV and picking at my cuticles till they bleed.
Pretty much life as usual here at Chez Magnetobold.
Todays fuckupery that has me wailing at the sky and flopping myself
heavily daintily on various forms of furniture for dramatic effect is nothing major (but everything), not going to kill anyone (but I may die from despair), and nothing really in the great scheme of things (OMG MY LIFE IS SO UNFAIR!!!), but I won’t be going to a bloggers conference where I was to wax lyrical on a panel about the haters and the trolls I have encountered in my journey across the interwebs, with my friends Glowless, Mrs Woog and Reservoir Dad.
And hug a lot of my friends that live in this virtual world of awesome.
And I am DEVASTATED. COMPLETELY GUTTED.
Ready to cut a bitch.
There is no one to blame, no easy solutions, no one thing that stands in my way.
It is just life with a broken brain and a disabled kid and being surrounded by people that pretty much only want me around for what I can do for them.
Ooooh the bitter…
Whatever. I shall spend the cash I had saved for margaritas and taxis on a fabulous pair of shoes.
So tell me, who is NOT going to the Digital Parents Conference and will keep me distracted and if you are going, who is going to swipe me some swag?