The newest development in my life of late involves that of a minor nuisance we are currently experiencing known as "we're f-ing broke". Several suggestions have been thrown around such as: selling the dog, hacking him up and selling him part for part, and finally, something seriously gross and extremely unfortunate: me going back to work. I know. President Vom-town USA.
Here is the dichotomy, I would love to get out of the house 2.5 days a week and contribute to our non-existent income, truly I would. However, my fear of the nanny from hell situation and my slightly overboard obsession with anyone who sets foot near Griffin are major negatives to the whole situation. I can't even tell you the madness that selecting a nanny involves. And I'm just talking the things I'm saying out loud, not even the catastrophe going on in my brain that I can't even lend words to. Except imagine "Psycho" only to the 10th power. I'm presently interviewing potential candidates and we're 0 for 4, including two "hell no's" and two "you have got to be on crack, hell no's". Alas, it is a work in progress, more to come later on that topic.
So, I know I need to nut up and go to work already like millions and billions of mom's are doing all over the world every day, but as long as I live, breathe, and blog, I will voice my discontent. Malcontent? Whatever, you know what I mean.
Oh, and sidebar, I just got a whif of myself and yes, that's Eau De Curdled Milk/Baby Vomit #5. I am so ready for the workplace.