…were the words inside the card I sent off to my mother this week - she turns 79 on Friday. Holy, it’s time to stop praying mom, and start shaking your sexy, groove thing and get down with your bad self!
This has been a tough week for me. I’m ridiculously busy at my boring-ass day job, I’ve met contractors every morning and night at my house, so I’m extra tired. What’s worse, I had to push back being a guest blogger for one of my favorite persons, Ashley Lister at OhGetAGrip. I’m sorry, Ash. Sniff-sniff.
I feel badly about missing that deadline too: badly because I hate disappointing people and badly because I’m honored when I’m invited to write, or speak and I can’t do it simply because of life’s pesky time constraints. Who would have thought I’d ever be irked over anything that had the word, contraint in it? But irked over constraints I am.
It been said that every rain cloud has a silver lining, and the thunder storm is about to clear, because there’s only two more days of hell left in this week, and then it’s Friday.
Speaking of hell, I’m not sure if my God fearing mother will let Satan in for her birthday, and really get down and get Neve-Black sheep of the family, dirty, if for just one very special day. But not to worry, I have no problem hanging out with Satan from time to time - he’s usually disguised as tequila *shrugs*. And I’m hoping by Friday I’ll start feeling a little less irked about feeling contrained.
Baaaaaa
Neve Black
