Screaming. The other white meat.

It's Tuesday. And that is pretty much the most interesting thing I can think of to say at the moment. And that? Is sad. My brain is kind of overwhelmed lately. I have had trouble sleeping at night. Granted, I haven't had any trouble at all sleeping in the morning. Right through my alarm. Until 10:00.

My problem is I can't seem to shut my mind off. I lay down and my brain just starts going a million miles an hour. I have spent many a night trying to stave off a panic attack because suddenly? We're all gonna die. Everyone. Is. Going. To. Die. Painfully and probably due to some kind of plague spread via home foreclosure paperwork.

I lie in bed and think about work and my mortgage and my son starting school and tuition for said school and my dog driving Eric the last half mile to total insanity and my inability to stick to an exercise plan and the birds building a nest in our attic and why my car is making a funny noise and...well, the list of crazy goes on.

The newest psychosis inducing activity in our house is related to Mazie. She has this heavy rubber ball that we throw for her outside. It was a purchase necessitated by the fact that she would eat the tennis balls we bought for her. Yes. That's right. EAT THEM. She would start by peeling off the fluffy, presumably lemon-flavored - possibly lime - outer coating. Daintily grabbing the fluff with her front teeth and pulling chunks off. Most chunks were quickly consumed, but occassionaly she would leave a wet pile of tennis ball fur on the floor for one of us to step on and; thus, share her culinary delite with us. She's a giver that one.

After consuming the outer layer of the tennis ball she would vigorously chew on the ball itself until it split in half. That would allow her to better eat the harder shell portion of the ball. This portion of the ball eating process would take anywhere from 10 minutes to 2 hours. Crunching, cracking, snorting, slobbering, growling...for up to 2 hours. SO...we bought the red ball. It's rubber. And indestructible.

Mazie loves her ball. She wants us to throw it for her. All. The. Time. Mazie loves her heavy red ball so much she picks it up and stands right next to your chair and drops it at your feet. Repeatedly. Until you either take her outside and throw it for her or pick it up and hide it from her. You wouldn't think the dog dropping her ball at your feet would be irritating. But it is. Our house has a crawl space under it so when something heavy hits the floor it isn't hitting carpet over a concrete slab. It is hitting carpet over wood over a big hole in the ground. Things tend to reverberate. Through my chair. Through my butt. Straight to my irritation gland. That's when the screaming starts.

I'll let you know when it stops.

BTW - I have to share this text message exchange between me and Lexy. We love each other and it shows!

Me: Don't you have dance class tonight?
Lexy: No. I'm running away with my new husband Leroy.
Me: Does he have gas money?
Lexy: No. He's investing in a clinical trial to help cure his HIV. Things are finally looking good for him.
Me: That is great! That improves the odds that your illegitimate love child, Bubba, will be born with only one club foot.
Lexy: No. we decided to name the twins Gomar and Jebidiah.
Me: I am so excited! Once the twins finish detoxing from the Meth addiction will I get to be Godmother?
Lexy: Well, I already promised the social worker she could be. But, when their father gets out of Intermountain Hospital, and she can't pay for their separation surgery I will give you a call.
Me: Great! I have always wanted to be financially responsible for once conjoined, illegitimate, Meth-addicted twins! Where will you and Leroy be while I change diapers? I hear Mexico is nice and you could get there on one convenience store robbery.
Lexy: Well, his probation officer has a nice two person bike that we can pick up in Cali, but we have to find a way to get it over the fence. But, until then we are using his scooter. One Rite-Aid and a 7/11 ought to do it.

Ahhhh...it's fun to have a little sister.