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I suck at blogging and other random irritations

So I have like eleventythousand partial blog posts that randomly pop in and out of my head on a daily basis.  I start to write them in my head, and promise that when I’m in front of a computer I will type them out and they will be awesome and the 2.4 people that read this blog will be duly impressed.  They’ll praise me on my wit and awesomeness and I’ll feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Then reality hits, and by the time I can even think about sitting down in front of the computer to actually type something out, the thoughts are a jumbled mess and I can’t recreate the funny that was inside my head into actual words on a screen.  So this is going to be a very random and completely discombobulated post about very random things and it won’t be full of The Awesome.  I’m posting it anyway because my last post was eons ago and I don’t want to be a sucky blogger that rarely posts.  I know how much I look forward to reading the (way too many) blogs I follow every day.  I also know how disappointed I am when those blogs aren’t updated on a regular basis.  Even though there are only 2.4 people actually reading my blog at the moment, one never knows when that other .6 person will stumble upon it and read it.  I cannot disappoint the .6 peoples of the world!

Random things I don’t get/things that irritate me:

  • Lady Gaga.  Half of her songs are comprised of sounds, not actual words.  And what’s with the randomly singing in French?  I realize she’s like the Madonna of this decade, but really?


  • The chic at work who insists on playing her CDs loudly and singing even louder along with it.  We work in cubicle land and we can all hear you.  Don’t quit your day job, honey.


  • Married women who claim single mom status when their husbands go out of town for a week.  Just because your husband is not physically home with you does not make you a single mom. You still have his emotional love and support, even if it’s from a distance.  Until you have to look in the sad eyes of your child and answer for the millionth time why he doesn’t see his dad, you cannot call yourself a single mom.  Until you have to be both mommy and daddy and have to support both of you emotionally and financially all on your own, you don’t get to call yourself a single mom.  When you spend 51 weeks out of the year with your spouse, you are not a single mom.  Not even for that one week he’s gone.  You. Just. Don’t.  And when you do, it’s a slap in the face to those of us who are or have been single moms.*


  • My job.  I know with the economy and unemployment rates what they are I should be happy to have a job.  And I am.  I have just one word for my company:  clusterfuck.

I know I had more things in my head to add to the above list, but apparently my brain is a clusterfuck too, and I can’t remember them at the moment.  I’m certain that as soon as I hit the publish button, a plethora of funny/witty things will pop into my head. 

*Military moms are the exception when their partners are on extended deployment away from the family.

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