I didn't get a freaking thing done on my house today and I'm really aggravated with myself because of it. This study is making me very nervous because of all of the clutter and I don't know why. It's been like this for a fucking year now. What difference does one more week of skankyness (is that a word?), make?

Perhaps it's because I accomplished so much down here last week (and weekend), and I just wanted to keep the trend going. That has to be it. I feel as if the chance to fix this mess before more is piled on top of it is slipping away.

Why?

Because of viral pharyngitis.

A virus that's giving me a very sore throat, in other words. Not strep, thank the Goddess, but unpleasant enough. I'm tired, drained and my throat feels as if I have a hot pebble lodged in one side of it. And nothing is getting done.

Zoe seems to be getting over this most recent bout of it though, for which I am extremely grateful. Having one of them sick at the same time I am ups the difficulty factor by about 75%. I'm doubly grateful to not have two of them down with it.

However, the nudity factor is slowly rising as Trent becomes more proficient at aiding his sister in her attempts to remove her own clothing. A few days ago it was just her socks, but today I came out of the bathroom to find Zoe pants-less with no sign of her pants anywhere. After some looking I found them scrunched up on top of the huge stuffed dinosaur we put in the babies' room, a place Zoe can't possibly get to yet.

I suspect the same boy I caught sitting on the dresser this morning and emptying a shaker bottle of baby powder all over the place is the culprit.

I'm going to have to stop writing about those two in my journal so much. People who don't have any children but want them will be scared shitless by the things my babies do. It's enough to frighten them into not having any.

Trent also took my Care Bear. Well, okay, he fell in love with it so I let him have it. He keeps taking it off of my dresser and dragging it from room to room with him. He hugs it and hands it to me so I can sing the jingle from the Care Bear commercial, then laughs, smiles and hugs it. How could I not let him have it? He switched on the cuteness ray. I was hit in the chest with a cuteness projectile and rendered helpless.

I move to strike that last sentence on the grounds that it was totally fucking sickening.

I still have two bears Larry gave me anyway. One is a beautiful, soft brown bear he gave me while we were dating, one is a cute little brown bear he gave me while we were still just friends. It was a gift to let me know he cared about me and to make me feel better after FF raped me. I have a white scrunchy with little shamrocks printed on it draped over one of the bear's shoulders like a Miss America sash. Larry gave that to me too, and I couldn't stand to part with it after I used it so many times that the elastic became shot.

And to think I got all weepy over that Care Bear.

I'm thinking now I won't miss it so much after all.

How's that for putting things into perspective?

It's officially time to get my silly ass to bed.

G'night.