Cry Baby

Ok, let's lighten this up a little. I think I might have scared people with my last post. A little TMI. I'm not really headed for Western State, if that's what you're thinking. (I'm much more inclined to save up for one of those cushy lock-ups, like in Palm Springs, where a daily massage is called therapy.) Besides, I can't really succumb to insanity, not yet anyway. Matt would never get past security to visit me, with all the metal on those belts.

Jack carved pumpkins with the neighbors yesterday. Sure, my feelings were hurt. And yes, I have to admit, I took it out on my husband, as if it were his fault. What a b*** I am! I was having some uber-fantasy of "family time" that all went awry when, as it turned out, I was actually the only family member who wanted to participate. I had visions of hot apple cider and soggy newspaper all over the kitchen table, laughter and stories of holidays past, your regular June Cleaver snapshot. But realistically? Jack wanted to hang with his friends. Casey had to hit the road. John had already been pumpkin and costume shopping, for God's sake, (what more did I want?) and Matt...well, Matt would just as soon have a limb removed than carve pumpkins with his family. Or do anything with his family, come to think of it.

So there I was, wallowing around in my self pity all day, making the rest of the world miserable because no one wanted to carve pumpkins with me. Waaah!