Um...yeah...

Once again, my intentions of daily blogging have gone out the window, flown away, returned briefly to be fed, were denied at said window, flown away again, and have now returned as if to say, "feed me now, you damn intention killer".  Fine.  I will give this one more try before I eventually come to the harsh realization that I just can't commit.  Hence my divorce and broken engagement within the past 10 years.... I'm a free spirit who cannot be held to the unrealistic expectations that I have set for myself, and I refuse to bow down to my own...wait.  Dammit.

Well, it appears that my last intended attempt was in 2011.  Wow, what a schlep I am.  I'm sure that was a time when I was filled with Christmas hope, joy in graduating with my Master's degree, and a wide-eyed anticipation of so much free time.  Ha!  Since that time I have been looking to punish myself with another round of school, struggled with finding time for my relationship with my wonderful man, moving one child to college (then back again), and oh yeah, that little bugger called my first grandchild.  I can't imagine why blogging fell apart (note sarcasm, please). 

This is my little bean, Ariana.  After my initial reaction of "no way will I be a grandma at 38" and "you're only 17, you stupid teenager", this little nugget has made me into a softie who gives her pretty much anything she wants, or anything I think she wants.  She also makes me say, "sure, I can pick up overtime; I have a kid to spoil rotten".  Darn kids.

Speaking of work, it has again become mundane after a brief period of feeling content.  I've toyed with finding a new job so many times, but I can't seem to leave where I am.  I have a great schedule, great co-workers, and a salary that supports my single motherhood quite well.  Therefore, I continue the constant battle of fending off demented aggressors with sharp old lady fingernails, incontinence abound, and feeling like a walking germ everyday.  I write this as I'm sick as a dog, blaming work all the way, when in reality that sweet little bean you see above has shared her nasty bugs with her beloved G. 

I will leave this post with a thought given to me by a patient deep in his Alzheimers, "these aren't my teeth".