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I would like to tell you about the day I should have had. I should have gotten up nice and early, went jogging (or something equally stimulating), come home, had a great cup of hot coffee and a cinnamon roll. From there, I should have gotten dressed, applied make-up, and rolled my hair. I then should have left for the office for a challenging day of work. I should have taken and made calls from colleagues and families all day long. I should have had a yummy salad for lunch. After work, I should have come home, changed my clothes, and taken the boys to the Y. Then, I should have come home all tired out, to a crock-pot casserole of some sort. Then, I should have watched movies on TV, and then went to sleep.

None of this happened. Well...the movies happened...but nothing else that was in that absurd paragraph.

Shortly after I wrote the last post last night to tell you I felt pukey and was going to bed, the feeling pukey turned into actual puke. For 4 1/2 hours straight, I did nothing but hurl and attempt to hurl when there was nothing left to hurl. This is disgusting, I know. However, misery loves company, so that's why I'm telling YOU about it.

For the entire day today, all I've done is lay on the couch, with a large bucket at my side. I stayed underneath my big fat comforter, with my head perched on my pillow. I barely ventured to the bathroom to pee. (I know there's some lame rule that chicks aren't allowed to actually SAY they pee. But, since I'm not big on etiquette, I'm gonna come right out and say it. I pee. Usually a few times a day. I'm not telling you because I want you to actually THINK of me peeing...that's not it. I'm telling you more so that you'll know that the whole lame rules of etiquette deal really doesn't fly right with me. )

Anyways, point is I'm sick. Thanks to you guys who commented for me to feel better. That was very, very sweet to read. I really need to get this crap (crap being cancer and fibroids) out of me so that I can feel normal again. I am to the point that if we don't get it out sooner than later, I'm going to have quite a little tantrum at the doctor's office next time I see him. Bastard. Like I give a shit that's he's heading to Australia for the first time for two whole weeks in October. He may think that I would think it's cool...but instead it made me think he's a spoiled rotten rich boy with little to no compassion whatsoever for his patients. I mean, at least LIE to me. Tell me you're going to someplace boring for two weeks to learn better hysterectomy techniques that you'll use on me when it's surgery time. Yeah...that's a lot better than hearing about Australia and the Outback. Jerk.

Speaking of spoiled little rich boys...the Mega Millions is up to 250 Million dollars. Oh yeah. I bought tickets. Oh no...I didn't win. But...neither did anyone else. One person won 250,000. That's cool. Hell, I'd be quite happy with that. But, what it means is that it's probably going to go up another 20 mill by Tuesday.

Let's explore for just a second, what I would do with $270,000,000.00. First of all, my Daddy would be all done working. He'd have a nice place on his favorite lake to while away his time on the badassed fishing boat I bought him. He and my step-mom would have all the money they could ever need or want. That's step number one. Step two...no one I know would ever have to worry about cash flow again. Step three...the org would be set. No more budget worries for us. Step four...I'd buy land. A lot of it. The biggest chunk I could find, and I'd fill it with horses and animals that make me and the boys happy. Yeah...I'm gonna win. I can feel it.

When I do...I'll give awards for best posts on your blogs. LOL Lucrative cash benefits to those who make me smile every day.

And, since we're playing follow the train of thought...speaking of those who make me smile...I read Max's blog today. The post for September 16th has got to be the sweetest, coolest thing I've read in a long time. Max...how much you love your wife...now THAT'S sexy. I read it earlier and Mr. DK says "What are you awwing about?" I said, "Max. He calls his wife Biscuit. As in hot buttered biscuit on a cold winter's day. See....this is what I'm talking about. THIS is what I want." He says "I'm not reading it. Tell Max thanks for getting me in trouble." Ha! I didn't snap at him or anything! I just said, I want what Max's wife has. Not the man, mind you (no offense, Max...LOL) but the love he has for his wife.

Mr. DK and I are not schmoopy. You'll rarely see us holding hands or snuggling. We don't really have pet names for each other unless you count "Baby". As in "Baby...can you put the kids in bed?" or "Baby, while you're in the kitchen can you grab a..." The pet name only kicks in if one of us wants something out of the other. Otherwise we don't even address each other by a title. "Hey..." usually suffices. We've gotten so wrapped up in child rearing, the org, paying bills and life that we just don't make time for each other.

In the last year, we've been on one "date". And even that, really can't be considered a date. It was more my brother needing us after his Italian Bitch of A Girlfriend (otherwise known as "She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named") of 9 years slept with his best friend and he ended up dumping her and finally working to get his life on track. We went out, had a few beers, watched his silly attempts at finding a "rebound" girl, took him to breakfast and came home. That's it.

So much for romance and dreams, huh? I'm not complaining really...I'm not a snuggly person. I think I used to be a snuggly person. But, somewhere down the line I just lost my need for it. I'm snuggly with my boys. All three of my boys always have a spot in my arms. They need it. They have all their grown up years in front of them, and I feel like they should be able to cuddle with me as much as they want and can before the world lets loose on them.

But, Mr. DK...he's not really cuddly either. The first couple of weeks we were together we cuddled a lot. But it wore off rather quickly. Why does that happen? One week you can't get enough of each other and for the next 20 years, you just co-exist as friends who procreate together? I'm done procreating now, so we're going to have to get a little more creative, I think.

Well, it's 2:28 am. Insomnia has become loathesome. I'm probably going to ask for something to help me sleep at night at the next doctor's visit. I guess I'll go read for the next few hours until my eyes give out. That's the only way I can sleep anymore...read until I zonk out with a book laying on my chest.

Goodnight!

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