Good morning!

I'm not quite awake yet so this is taking me a lot of time. The coffee isn't working and I'm morning stupid for the time being. I considered going back to bed and sleeping a bit more but I hate day sleeping unless it's a day after I worked all night.

Oh, I found out what the bug bites all over my arms are...they're a Southern delight called "chiggers". I'm not sure what the heck they are but they're all over my arms. I read that the larvae stick their mouth into a pore or a hair shaft and stay there for about 3 or 4 days. I FREAKED. The idea of having anything on my skin with it's mouth in my pores is making me crazy.

I started scrubbing my arms with a pumice stone so that I could kill any little critters on them. Of course, I took off the first few layers of skin...but it had to be done. So, what the hell are chiggers anyway? And why do I keep getting punished for doing yard work? If my back doesn't go out and if I don't sunburn my scalp, I'm collecting little bugs. This is like my worst nightmare come true.

Your skin is the first and best defense against most germs, but it doesn't work if there are holes in it and my arms are full of them. I have some sort of Tom Hanks in Philadelphia thing going on here.

Well, it's time to get ready to pack for the judge show. I'm not packing yet, just getting ready to. That means that I'm going to wash ever piece of clothing in this house so that I can look in my closet and take out whatever I want. I've been so behind in everything that I've done lately that my laundry is approaching gross levels. I can wash and dry it all, but the part where I have to carry it back to my room is getting messed up. I keep waiting for some nice little Brownie to take care of it all while I'm sleeping.

If you were in the Girl Scouts, you might remember that there's a story about Brownies cleaning up houses in the middle of the night so the housewife can wake up to a nice clean place and somehow that all translated into the need for girls to get together weekly and talk about cookies.

Now that I'm officially 50, I can tell you that I have been around long enough to begin to think that there are no Brownies and God DIDN'T make little green apples and the lottery IS fixed. No good stuff ever happens on it's own. You have to make it happen. But ever since they tell us that stupid Santa story, we all have been hoping for cool things that just won't ever get here.

You know...I really do need to go back to bed. 4 hours two nights in a row just won't do. I can't get rid of the morning stupids so I'm just going to start over again. I'll be back soon.

BTW, someone's saying something about me here and I don't know what it is:

"válásom története..na nem az enyém, hanem egy blog címe...jó, mi?..pasi úgy bukott le, hogy felesége szextelefonos cégnél dolgozott és tudta, hogy mikor nincs meló..aztán hipp-hopp rájött, hogy kedves férjecske is beillik a "céges menetrendbe" undor és válás a hálón!"

Don't you hate when that happens?