Yesterday I called H1 and I didn’t throw up from anxiety. This is amazing, people. I had my super friendly voice going, and it is hard to be really nasty to super friendly voice. He was annoyed that I needed permission to take Chicken on the cruise. He was annoyed that I wanted him to overnight the notarized permission. So sorry to make you do something for your kid, yo. My bad! I emailed him the form and hoped for the best.
This morning he texted Chicken with the news that he was too sick to go into work. He wanted me to email the form to his personal account. I found out from Adam that I needed the original form-which means that I have to count on H1 to print the form, have it notarized, and successfully mail it to me. I know this is something that most functional people can do, and in fact I bet many people have completed tasks like mailing a letter, or printing a document. I’m assuming the fact that there are notaries in existence is a sign people, even very average people like Temerity Jane, have taken the bold steps to sign a document and have a professional person attest to the validity of that person’s signature and personhood. Apparently personhood is not a real word, but that’s okay. You get what I mean, right?
You may be thinking, “What a fucking whore. Her poor ex-husband is sick. That happens to the very best and bravest of us. I bet Sam has even been sick a time or two.” Yes, I’ve been sick. I’ve even had the delightful hand of pneumonia tickling around in my lungs recently. I’m even aware that H1 is indeed sick, as he sounded like shit on a stick when I talked to him yesterday. However!! This is the slippery slope of Not Getting Shit Done. I know what happens next. See: my last post about H1 and his ability to Get Shit Done. Although it seems that H1 will accomplish this task, I am not holding my fucking breath.However! I am abusing punctuation and random capitalization. I’m enjoying it. It feels good throw around make believe words and you better fucking appreciate it. I’m blogging, bitches. ENJOY.
*Yesterday I took a picture of my mother and her two sisters at our early Thanksgiving celebration. I wanted great smiles or some semblance of real happiness, so I said, “Say PENIS!” This was in front of many cousins (youngest age 13 I believe) and assorted family members. I wish I could show you this picture. It was so great. One aunt was about to pee her pants with laughter, one was fairly amused, and one was horrified. I loved it. PENIS!!