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OK - here's the part where I get to the 'Yes, I made mistakes, but I've got to keep going and learn from them and be positive and RAINBOWS RAWR!' part of these ridiculous thought processes. Much more energy this morning. Good coffee.

Today we're bug-bombing and we're bug-bombing RIGHT. We're getting those fuckers for all that they're worth and THEY WILL BE GONE. I swear to god if these bugs persist into the new house I will declare all-out war on the ENTIRE BUG KINGDOM. No more will I see a spider and think, 'Oh, hello there buddy, did you catch any flies today?' No more will I see a bee flying around and think, 'Hey, as long as I don't bug you, you won't bug me. Go get those flowers!' No more will I see a cluster of ants and think, 'Ew, you're gross, but you're not in my house, whatever. Long live and prosper!' No. If these stupid bugs PERSIST...

I will become a Bug Nazi.

And we don't want to see this lady go down that road. She will start to crave power over the bugs. She will take pleasure in spraying them with toxic chemicals. Her 'do no harm' nature will disappear entirely.

It already makes me sad to feel such hatred for bugs... They're living things. Mostly they mind their own business. What the hell ever.

BUT THE LITTLE BUGGERS SWARM OUT OF MY SINK IN THE MORNING WHEN I MAKE COFFEE.

They're in my bedroom. The bathroom. Places THEY HAVE NO RIGHT TO BE. We don't keep food there! What the fuck, bugs? In high school, when my parents' had a fly problem, I flinched at the traps that killed them. I was raised to take the damn wolf spider OUTSIDE, not to squish it. Sure, we vacuumed up the bees when they infested our bathroom so bad we couldn't take a shower without fear of getting stung. But mostly... I don't want to kill you if you have six or eight legs or whatever. Hey, some people juggle geese - amiright? But these damn bugs infested our electronics when we were living at my husband's mom's house and... they just REMIND ME OF LIVING AT MY HUSBAND'S MOM'S HOUSE. It was awful. Let's not get into it. But it was awful.

So. Yes. I am filling my house with toxic chemicals today - something that strikes me as so wrong and even a little bit evil - because I have reached the end of my patience with these fuckerbuggers.

Anyway, tangent aside.

This summer... well, it's a new beginning. And I love new beginnings - they fill me with so much energy. I think that's a part of why I hate finishing things... because as I'm finishing something, I see a new project looming, and I would SO MUCH PREFER to start that new, exciting project that finish this old one that's making my brain feel like the sound of cat claws down a chalk board.

So. Tomorrow my husband (I'm calling him Batman! I forgot about that! but he was intimidated by that nickname - he said he couldn't possibly live up to the responsibility it endowed on him and he wants now to be called The Bearded Man, so, in honor of my husband's fear of responsibility, he is now The Bearded Man) and I are flying to Portland. We will spend five days filming conferences for my dad, going out to eat at marvelous restaurants, exploring Portland, and sleeping in those amazing fluffy clouds known as 4-star hotel queen-sized beds. FUCK YES.

When we come back, I have a 'trial-run' at the bakery in Athens. Can I say FUCK YES again, because FUCK YES. Then we're moving into Athens on the 10th. We'll live right by the dog park and have a back yard and, oh yeah, a thirty second walk from Miller's Chicken. And right by the bike path, too. So, while my summer may be filled with fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and mac and cheese, it will also be full of walking, and biking, and going to the park, and growing vegetables. I will get a physical and hopefully get a perscription for either Vyvanse or that non-stimulant ADHD med I can't remember the name of right now, and it will work for me, and I will decorate a Minecraft cake with iGuy, and I will bake lots of pies with Dreads' girl, who is so close to getting a nickname I can feel the nickname-idea-generator part of my brain buzzing with excitement. I will finish that book on the polyvagal theory. I will get excited for fall semester. I will create a weekly chores calendar and follow it and I will be known as an AWESOME PERSON TO LIVE WITH. I will continue meditating and practicing mindfulness. The Bearded Guy will eventually say to me, 'You know, you get things done. You don't get irrationally angry as often anymore. You call me on my bullshit and bring home money just like I do. You are awesome and I appreciate all of the hard work you have put into becoming awesome!' And we will have sex in the graveyard and on the box cars and in the kitchen.

And we will have a chilli cook-off and I WILL WIN.

This isn't the coherent, organized list I wanted it to be, and it's kind of whip-lashy from my previous post... but damn the idea of getting rid of these damn bugs once and for all and being in Portland (justdon'tthinkabouttheairplanejustdon'tthinkabouthteairplane) has got me all excited. And now that the mess that was the school semester is over, I can relax and know that I usually do well fall semester, so I've got a whole year before I have to deal with that part of my brain again, and hopefully by then I'll have ALL THE TOOLS to cope with winter SHITSHOW LadyChai.

Good afternoon!

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