Meh.

I haven't written anything in a while.

Haven't had much to say.

Kind of hard to find words when they're coated in anger and I'm trying to behave.

Quinn had an ear infection and RSV, which was led to a completely awesome time in the ER. Nose swab, check. Kicked in the face by a three year old in hulkSMASH mode? Check. Get the slightest taste of revenge because the liquid zithromax tastes like rotten asshole? CHECK.

Poor kid. He felt as bad as that crap tastes. He is back to business, just a slight cough. Evidently all his germs took residence in my throat, as I haven't had a voice for a couple of days.

I need to make a mental note to go into detail over the bipolar-ness of dear husband this weekend. Week. Whatever. I meet with an attorney tomorrow to go over the paperwork I've done and get advice on the whole child support thang.

Dolla dolla bills, y'all. *snort* How about don't wanna get my shit repo-ed, y'all. Yeah, that's more like it.

Oh. Yeah. Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. Yip-fucking-pee. Hey me? Next year? Don't wait until the 13th to buy Valentines, expecting there to be some, and there's not, so you have to spend two hours making them. Okay? Okay.