Is it Friday already?

Damn… sure is!

First of all, I got my manuscript back from it’s odyssey–and it came with perks!!! Thanks five billion times twelve to Roxie and Needletart…they not only did a fantastic job editing, but they also send me slinkies and chocolate and sachets and soap (Bonnie!) and yarn and nifty cards (Roxie!) and I may just have to heap it all in front of the computer and take a picture–if my kids haven’t eaten the chocolate, stolen the slinkies and hid the sachets from the cats by the time I get home. (The yarn is MINE, you hear me…MINE MINE MINE! BUWWAAAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…)

Anyway, it was a nice way to perk up a crap week, and now I”m torn between writing this part I’ve been DYING to write in BMoon2, or putting it off to savor and getting down to edit BMoon1 as well as cooking up my synopsis so I can put BMoon1 in the mail for it’s mandatory rejection. (The rejection is just so I can justify the self-publishing biz, really…it’s sort of a “Yeah, see, no one else has the sense to publish this, so I must!!!!” sort of deal.) I was excited to hear that Roxie got her galleys back…either the 2nd Sanna book or her cowboy romance–I don’t care, Roxie’s books are such a TREAT…she has such a visual sense of description (just read her blog!) I learn so much from her–it’s almost criminal, except she doesn’t like nasty vampires, so I feel okay about learning from a master:-)

As for the childrens…hmm… Coach Susan’s comments about a nasty-assed retro-moon in Scorpio (or something like that…my in depth astrology is lacking somewhat…) is pretty much on for all of my offspring as well. The Big T is depressed–he spent all week practicing a monologue in drama, actually DRESSED in his Ren-gear to do Romeo at the balcony, and then…forgot 1/2 his speech. I want to e-mail his teacher and just pour out my frustration for him–he was just sitting on his bed this morning, looking mournfully at the tattered paper w/the speech on it, talking to himself about the parts he missed. It was so sad, and I was, once again, reminded that high school sucks so egregiously that it should, sometimes be outlawed.

The Cave Troll is sick–in fact, he is sick at home with Dad and Ladybug. Again, another sniffer of a goodbye this morning…his voice was scratchy and stuffy and his nose was a toxic waste dump ready to bubble slowly, and he kept saying, “No’b mbomb…wann’ go mid ‘ooooo!” (‘No, mom, want to go with you’ for those of you who don’t speak Preschooler-with-a-cold.) Anyway, I hope he feels better…we were going to take him to the pumpkin patch even if it means leaving Chicken behind at her soccer game with dad tomorrow, but if he’s still feeling like crap, I’ll just get a couple of pumpkins at the grocery store and call it good.

Chicken is out of sorts–mostly because, of all the family members she’s got it good this week, and she knows it, and she’s not used to knowing how to act when she doesn’t win first prize for school-suckage, so I don’t know what sort of disaster is going to befall her to keep her in the lead.

Mate is pissed because the drain in our shower is backing up and…and I’m not going to talk about it. It involves drano, slime, and taking a shower that leaves your feet feeling like they just got a chemical peel and that’s already TMI and, just, ick. I hope he fixes it today. I will give all sorts of favors, both food and otherwise, if only the shower is working today when I get home.

And that about covers it. Except for Ladybug.

Ladybug has had a minor change in status. We used to think she was 85% cute and 15% evil. Her daycare provider and I have had a long, evaluative chat, and we think that really, she’s 75% cute and 25% evil. The day we had that chat, Ladybug spilled chocolate milk all over the back of my car and her new pink pants. I think she agrees.