So, I'm alive. I'm in a funk. A big one. My husband invited me to stay home 2 days this week because my funk is so big. Staying home is a big deal for me because I know the business needs another owner around to watch and help with sales. The funk has been coming for a while.
The in-law thing is huge & I hate writing about it because I don't have a solution and it pisses me off and it disturbs me and I can't wrap any logic around it. It looms large all the time. I think I'm going to have to cut & paste from some emails to friends in order to finish it, because revisiting it makes me feel ill. Even now, as I typed this paragraph I wanted to hurl.
Know what else makes me want to hurl?
The first thing you should know about me, is that I find reading trashy magazines that keep paparazzi in business to be relaxing. Mind numbing. It is my panacea. A guilty pleasure.
The second thing is that my husband, ever the practical one, would rather that I have a subscription to a magazine instead of compulsively buying a few at the drugstore every few weeks or so when I need a fix of mind numbingness. He figures our bank account still comes out further ahead - even with multiple magazine subscriptions on my part - than it would if I bought only one of them semi-regularly. So indulge this frugality of his & receive an inundation of the magazines each Friday or Saturday.
So, back to me wanting to hurl, imagine how great it felt to be an IF last Friday evening, on the way home after a long week, when in my mail box I discover the following:
<---- Notice "hot" chick, with two babies?
(And me with none?)
<---- Notice Britney who is looking like TWINS?
(And me having lost twins?)
<---- Notice Angelina with possibly a baby with Brad?
(And me with no pregnancy? With or w/out Brad.)
Ok, so now you see the depth of my need for mind numbing material, and the fact that I, clearly, am single-handedly keeping above mentioned paparazzi in business.
But, my friends, that wasn't all. I also received this:
<---- Notice 10 Fun Family Resorts article included?
(And that I don't have a "family" -
unless you count dogs & cats....)
Did I mention that I didn't even subscribe to this magazine? That American Express decided I needed it & began sending it to me?
Did I mention I don't GOLF people?
Yeah, that kind of funk.
So, dear readers, what is your guilty pleasure?