Winter

Gorram snow!

"Oh it's sooo pretty! I love to just sit and watch the snowflakes dance on the winter breeze."

Yeah. Right. WRONG-O!!

Then I opened up the door this morning to find nearly a foot of the gorram shit! Te me da!! So. I go out with my husband's tightass boots on my bigass feet, hair flying everywhere but where it should (including my eyes and nose), thin leather gloves and a gorram shovel. And. The fucking arthritis in full flare up in arms and shoulders. Woo. Hoo. Let's go shovel! AND The damn dog is barking, "Throw the shovels full my way!" ***edited for material of a familial offensive nature***

Foul weather, I tell ya, and not all of it on the outside. Pretty damn ugly on the inside.

All the while I am shoveling thinking the ***edited for material of a familial offensive content***

Then, maybe four square feet from driveway completion and total ruination of my joints for the next three days, ***edited for material of a familial offensive content***

Pretty damn ugly on the inside.

It was so much better last night, sitting on the sofa with a glass of wine, a good friend watching wrestling with me and the gorram snow falling outside the window.

Basking and bitching

Ah. Well, the serious writer side of me is basking in the glow of praise from a LiveJournal user who is currently reading my novel. I just love it when someone loves what I've written. It swells my chest, not that THAT is necessary, and puts a smile on my face.

And, Savannah's horns start to rise. The frisky, sassy side of me has a hotbed of fuel lately with two recent great reviews. If I didn't have WORK to do for my agent for submissions, I'd have to whip out the WIP and write something steamy. Something with teeth and more skin. Something hot. Or something dark and with tendancies toward slaughter.

On to the bitching, which my son blurts out is a 'bad word.' In defense of me, which it seems that there are precious few are today... Have you ever had a day that it felt as if you could do no right. Yup. "Today is that day, Evie." (quote from The Mummy Returns) Since my hubby set foot to the floor I've felt like the whipping girl. Sorry, but my pajamas are most comfortable when I have the chills. Sorry, my pajamas are most comfortable when the methotrexate is knocking me on my ass. Sorry, but I am not going to get dressed and run around when my guts are gnarled and I feel like crap.

Venom spatter over. Typing over. Arthritis is winning. Dammit.