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I started the week filled with good intentions. I was going to break out of the February blahs that have infiltrated every area of my life once and for all. I would set goals for my mid-life crisis. I would start to exercise and eat better. I would start writing again…but there always seemed to be something to distract me or I was just plain too tired. We had a serious snowstorm on Sunday. I had to get dressed before 8 a.m. and help Hubby shovel the driveway. And instead of napping all afternoon as planned, I sat worrying about Big Guy who was driving to the city in it. He’s been transferred temporarily to a different crew and it’s slightly closer to drive there from our house.

On Monday, I was privileged to drive in the city muck with all the other morons, to take Little Guy for a hearing test. His hearing, as I suspected, is stellar! That evening I violated a chicken…and Big Guy videotaped it (and if the video ends up on the internet, I will violate his right to life). It was a large chicken and I had stuffed it into the roasting pan, not considering how I would get it out again…I tried to pry it out with forks. Then flippers. Then a knife. Then a big knife. I tried to cut it out but I couldn’t even pierce the skin. When I did finally convince it to evacuate the pan, it slid across the cutting board and nearly kissed the floor (the one with the permanent crusty spaghetti sauce blob). It dribbled juices everywhere, and ended up a despicably splayed hunk of undercooked meat. I had to clean the kitchen floor…again.

On Tuesday, I noticed a strange smell in the house. It started in the basement and slowly wafted up the staircase to the kitchen, rolling along stealthily and seeping into my consciousness. I had to investigate…The odour grew stronger as I crept down the basement stairs, struggling to resist the urge to gag. When I regained consciousness…I discovered that the maleficent stench was coming from Big Guy’s laundry basket. Come to think of it, there seem to be strange odours emanating from my couch cushions too…I’ll investigate when I’m feeling stronger.

On Wednesday, while Hubby and Little Guy were out for the evening, Big Guy and I attacked grunts, jackals, brutes, and engineers. Apparently, I can’t drive in a straight line in a Warthog, but stick a gun in my hand and I will defend my troops. After 2 hours of Halo, I was spent.

On Thursday, I woke up to find out that all the TV channels have switched to digital from analog except for one. An Aquarium channel…with a bubbling motor and ugly fish. I spent Thursday evening lying in bed watching them with Little Guy and naming them. Larry, Curly & Moe keep running into each other, while Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye avoid each other as much as possible. We’re still negotiating the names of the others.

And now it’s Friday morning. With the wind chill, the temperature is in the -30C range. I have to pack my car for a road trip and put gas in it. My car is so dirty that I’ve forgotten what colour it’s supposed to be, and I fear that if I wash it, something will freeze shut and I could be trapped in it until Spring. And another unproductive week has gone by. If the road to some place not very nice is paved with good intentions, can I at least take some pleasure in the hope that it’s warmer than here? – Happy Weekend

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