Ugh. Breakfast tastes much better going downOh well, time to finish getting dressed and head out to work.
*hugs Cerise gently* It usually does, I'm sorry you're not feeling well though.
Waking up to the sound of helicopters is never good.
unrelated to lit~ they are doing my fucking head in *sighs* to much more and i am going to slap the shit out of every one of them for being stupid. I freaking hate mind games and this is getting way to much for me to sanely handle without breaking them all.
*bangs head on the wall*
I'm going offline for the rest of the day and turning the phone off. I have had enough!
Yet another "Is this it?" moment passes.
I ran into another parent, another emotionally scarred veteran of the "Is this it?" wars, in the waiting room. For her beautiful daughter, who's just a couple years older than my son, it might actually BE "it" this time around. Few without the experiences we've shared will ever understand. It's a wonder more of us aren't diagnosed with PTSD. Then again, there's nothing "post" about this "traumatic stress," is there?
At least, not until it's "it."
*HUGS* imp.Yet another "Is this it?" moment passes.
I ran into another parent, another emotionally scarred veteran of the "Is this it?" wars, in the waiting room. For her beautiful daughter, who's just a couple years older than my son, it might actually BE "it" this time around. Few without the experiences we've shared will ever understand. It's a wonder more of us aren't diagnosed with PTSD. Then again, there's nothing "post" about this "traumatic stress," is there?
At least, not until it's "it."
Yet another "Is this it?" moment passes.
I ran into another parent, another emotionally scarred veteran of the "Is this it?" wars, in the waiting room. For her beautiful daughter, who's just a couple years older than my son, it might actually BE "it" this time around. Few without the experiences we've shared will ever understand. It's a wonder more of us aren't diagnosed with PTSD. Then again, there's nothing "post" about this "traumatic stress," is there?
At least, not until it's "it."
dammit! how can I dance my mambo with a messed up ankle?
Yet another "Is this it?" moment passes.
I ran into another parent, another emotionally scarred veteran of the "Is this it?" wars, in the waiting room. For her beautiful daughter, who's just a couple years older than my son, it might actually BE "it" this time around. Few without the experiences we've shared will ever understand. It's a wonder more of us aren't diagnosed with PTSD. Then again, there's nothing "post" about this "traumatic stress," is there?
At least, not until it's "it."
* Hugs *
One of the dangers of relying on the visual.
On an olfactory note, I'm making IMPcense today.
And I really have been lazy..I know they gave us a box for 500 but damn I need to clean the messages out.
I really must remember to answer pm's
