Because, I’m Awesome, My Husband Said So!

I’ve been blogging for nearly a decade (because 10 years doesn’t sound nearly as great as all the gray hairs I’ve managed to nurture, along the way, YO!) and I’ve seen lots of good things happen to some pretty terrific people.

Some really craptastic stuff too, dammit.

Focusing on the great, the thing I love MOST about blogging communities?  There is almost always someone ready to lift you up and out of [enter whatever has you in a funk, right at this particular moment, right here] by the very simple act of typing three little words:

“I get it.”

Then again, there are times when the suckage starts to run REAL deep and, well, the damned gerbil refuses to slow down long enough for me to get the words out of my head.

Never mind, having to worry about good grammar, proper punctuation and my terrible habit of using pretend words.

See: craptastic.  See also: suckage.

Besides, there is almost always SOMEONE ELSE who is most probably wading their way through some really craptastic suckage…worse even, dammit…and that someone may be reading this very blog post, right now, thinking:  

“Duuuuuuuuude, you have NO idea.”

Sooooooo, I try to blog about stuff that perhaps help make OTHER folks (yes, maybe even YOU!) feel a little better about themselves. 

Today is NOT one of those days.

Long story, short:  my husband, Garth (not his real name) and I have lived in this house for 20 years and it’s been under renovation for…let’s see, I just need a minute to do the math…exactly 20 of those 20 years.

Most folks would blame procrastination: to which I say…move over, Rover…because my husband and I are totally in the front of THAT line.

He’s also pretty good at beating himself up, about ALL the things, just so you know.

Then, along came a spider, with eleventy-hundred of its siblings (heh, my kids thought THEY had it bad, right?!?) and just in case you’ve been wondering where I’ve been the last 9 days, this happened: