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My funny bone is angry

Should the world end on Dec. 21 as predicted by the usual crazies; I'll at least be satisfied that my final year here was anything but boring -- "Hoo-yeah, Master Chief."

It's actually been well more than a year since my life was last boring. I'm not sure it's ever been really boring by normal people's standards, but according to my scale things were pretty dull five years ago. 

I was a journalist. My husband was an engineer. Our daughter, Lily, was a quiet, somewhat sociopath-like child who pooped on the potty at school but refused our potty at home. We fretted stupid things like furniture and televisions; year-end bonuses and vacation time ... Life was comfortably stale, or it seems so looking back. 

Now I've got two kids and a job that has nothing to do with journalism that doesn't pay the bills. Jerod's a general contractor, which looks good on paper. The hangup is a lot of people are deadbeats, and contractors can't afford to sue them.


I don't worry anymore about the furniture except in my fantasies when I win lottery and buy new-smelling sofas and super-plush carpet and stainless steel kitchen appliances. I lose sleep over big stuff like mortgage payments; electric bills; medical insurance; whether or not my husband will get paid this week and next week; the leak in the roof; my job; the button that I sew and resew on the only pair of jeans that fit me; tutoring for my daughter; quitting smoking; not quitting smoking; and early-onset Alzheimer's disease. 

I'm finding it increasingly difficult to laugh things off as I usually do; and who am I if I'm not funny? I hate this strain of angry that bites down and won't let go -- the angry that eats you up and breeds little, angry soldiers inside of you like a virus. It's got me on me knees. It's got me wondering; will it ever let up?

I compiled this list of funny/notsofunny-awful things I'm mad about to fill the menacing gap in my writing:
  1. I received a complaint that I say "vagina" too loud and too often -- it makes people nervous.
  2. I started my period the day before Warrior Dash -- a 3.5-mile obstacle course featuring hurdles, barbed wire, cargo nets, fire and a waist-deep mud pit. There's gravel in my uterus.
  3. My father-in-law kicked me out of his house, and my husband went on eating dinner, smiling like nothing happened.
  4. I walked into the doctor's office last week with a weird-looking bug bite on my head, and I walked out with a presumed case of lyme disease -- presumed, because the doctor didn't test my blood -- "No need to." She was pretty sure a strong dose of antibiotics would kill the infection.
  5. I hate lists.
  6. My husband began a sentence -- "I let you come home and write ..."
  7. I haven't bought shoes in 14 months -- I was so desperate the other day at Goodwill I shoved my feet in a horrid pair of candy-pink platforms that were two sizes too small.
  8. My husband is waiting for a $6,000 check he was supposed to get in JANUARY.
  9. The sunburn on my nose is peeling.
  10. My mother's thinking -- "Make a list of the things you are happy about."
  11. I'm out of funny things to write.

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