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Blah, blah, blah, BLAH

I hate the blahs. They're not happy; they're not angry; they're not sad; they're not ANYTHING. They're just blah. The challenge is to write myself out of said blahs -- pick a topic that I care about enough to invoke some spark of emotion, but as long as this sentence goes on and on the more clear it becomes that I feel nothing about anything except my inability to feel (period) HA -- I actually enjoyed that.

It's after 4 p.m., I haven't showered, I didn't sleep particularly well, and the children are violating my space -- I know that's just what kids do, but I don't have to like it even if I have to accept it. BLAH. 

Is it wrong that I feel like running away all by myself to a warm, sunny beach in Hawaii? 

I don't want to talk to anyone or be talked to by anyone. I don't want to look at anyone or be looked be looked at by anyone. I want to melt away into nothing remotely traceable so no one can find me to bother me. BLAH. 

I want to be deaf to all irritating noises, which reminds me -- are those sound suppressing headphones a worthwhile investment? I'm somewhat skeptical that they actually work, otherwise every mom on the planet would wear them, and you wouldn't hear about soccer moms mixing vodka and opiates in their thermoses anymore -- they'd all just look like Princess Leia with their giant headphones on. 

Imagine a vacation from noise -- it's brilliant -- if your doctor/travel agent could program your hearing to ignore all unpleasant sounds -- crying, yelling, farting, crashing, chewing ... Where's the technology from Total Recall and Demolition Man -- vacations you don't have to travel to; sex helmets (no bubble violation)? I have no use for talking cell phones -- I'd like a tablet, preferably an iPad, but I'll live without one -- what I NEED is technology that makes my children quiet. I need a forcefield -- I tried using Slink like Andy did in Toy Story; it wasn't pretty.


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