You should write funny

So, apparently my last post was relatively funny, and I should try to write more like that. And I would love to, because that's popular and the one thing I've wanted my entire life, and always fallen short of, was to be liked. But it's just not me.

I had this great post in mind about tonight's dinner. On black Friday we, Steve and I, went to Costco because Friday is Costco day, I'm slightly obsessive compulsive, and we were out of food after the chaos of Thanksgiving. As we walked in, some guy was offering free cook books. I declined out of habit, but Steve heard "free cook book" and forced me to get one. We tried one of the recipes tonight. I seriously hope the others are better. Macadamia Crusted Chicken was a bust. My punchline was "it needs something to make the nuts stick."

The thing is: depression isn't funny. I don't care how many comedians have depression, it ends in situations like Robin Williams- the self imposed death of the funniest people around. Yeah, a funny thing happened today. Alongside of countless slit-my-throat-I-can't-deal-with-this things.

I have a failing small business.

I have a rental home that I hate and no prospects on a real home.

I have a panic attack every time the phone rings because it's probably the school telling me what else is wrong with my son.

I hate getting the mail because it's always more bills we can't pay.

This is why my funny is broken.

This is why when people ask me to donate, I just can't. I can't even work up the energy anymore to point out that all of the "homeless" on the street that I've seen begging for spare change have better clothes and better hair cuts than I do.

This is why that one moment of levity in the day is lost. Because it's buried in life.

What do animals have against sleep?

This morning, driving my son to school, I was slightly afraid that he was going to die from lack of oxygen because he was laughing so hard he couldn't breath properly. All because he asked me how my sleep was last night.

"Last night? Last night's sleep was fine," I replied. "It was this morning that was a bit of an issue."

I woke up around 6:30am, about an hour before I normally do, and had to use the restroom. So, I scampered off to do my business, happy to crawl back under the covers for another hour. Except as soon as I lay back down, my husband rolled over in his sleep, half on top of me, and began a dream where I assumed he was running away from a vicious hoard of zombies intent on feasting on his brain. I wasn't sure if I should wake him, grab a weapon, or call an exorcist.

As I was wrestling with the decision of what to do, I heard the cat loudly sharpening her claws on her scratchy post in the living room. The cat is far over due to have her claws trimmed, and the idea of her sharpening those already razor sharp sickles filled me with dread for the next time she decides to play KILL THE HAND! with my hand. Then, there was a split second of silence before the sound of a herd of elephants went tearing up the stairs. DUH-DUM DUH-DUM DUH-DUM DUH-DUM! The herd of elephants, of course, was only the cat pretending she's a saber tooth tiger chasing a mammoth up the icy steppes. Then the mammoth turned and chased her down the stairs. DUM-DUH DUM-DUH DUM-DUH DUM-DUH! Then she ran around the living room and kitchen for a bit, making the little bell on her collar scream in panic. JINGLE JINGLE JINGLE JINGLE! Before once again tearing up the stairs after her imaginary prey. DUH-DUM DUH-DUM DUH-DUM DUH-DUM!

All her crashing about alerted Zack, the big dog, to the mammoths that had invaded our house, and he had to see if he could be of assistance to the intrepid huntress. He padded around the room a few times, then headed out into the living room.

Zack typically sleeps on a bean bag, and Toby, the other dog, sleeps in a dog bed. However, when Zack left to aide in the mammoth hunt, Toby decided the bean bag would be much more comfortable. Which resulted in a five minute beat down of the bean bag to make it conform to Toby's shape. CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH!

All the while, my husband was running from the hoard.

Then, around 7am, I heard my son fall out of bed upstairs- his customary way of waking up. Followed by the footsteps of Zack heading up the stairs to say good morning. And soon after, Zack coming back down the stairs and into my room. Where he sat by my side of the bed, and stared at me. This is pretty standard as he is not allowed on the bed until 7:20am, so he sits, stares, and occasionally licks my hand if it escapes from the covers to try to convince me to let him in bed a little early.

On the dot, Zack jumped up into bed, and I had a crunchy stuffed armadillo dog toy touching my nose. Eeeww. So I took it away from him and dropped it on the floor. I then opened my eyes and realized I was staring directly into two dark dog nostrils. His breath puffing on my face. And then he let out a great big dog yawn. I thought he was going to eat my face! That dog does the loudest yawns I have ever heard! AAARRRR-OOOOPP!

Following his gigantic eat-your-face-yawn, Zack did a massive flop into my stomach, knocking the air out of me. He then began shuffling towards my face, slowly getting closer and closer. Once he got into position, he stretched himself across my chest so he could give Steve a great big doggy good morning kiss- much to Steve's dismay.

"What was Toby doing?" my son asked between peels of laughter.

Toby was in his customary morning spot- Steve's pillow- cleaning himself loudly. SLURP SLURP!

It wasn't long after that we gave up and got up for the day.

Needless to say, it was a rather interesting morning wake-up call.

The sadness has me

Sometimes being a crafter is incredibly hard. Especially when I've been struggling to make it my full time job and actually use my skills in the hope of adding to the home income for a change, but not actually selling anything, and then tripping over another crafter's page who is considered to be in the same department as I am but when I look at what they've made I realize that I made similar things when I was 7 years old during school holidays and I've grown way beyond that, but then I notice that everything on their site is sold.

Sorry for the run on sentence, but damn! I just don't understand. I really wish someone could explain to me, in small words, what I'm supposed to do to get this business going. I'm so confused as to how people who make low quality products and charge 4 times as much as I do can make their businesses flourish while I'm on the edge of failure. What am I doing wrong this time?

It's frustrating. I don't think I'll ever understand it.

Holidays are hard

Ugh. I hate the lead up to holidays. Don't get me wrong, I love the lights, and watching the movies, and hearing the "peace on Earth" songs, and eggnog.... mmmm.... eggnog... But there is so much to do! I feel like I've lost my mind and just can't keep up with everything on my ever growing list of to do's.

Luckily, one of the blogs that I follow religiously (literally since she's created a religion for her tribe of misfits)  had the most amazing news today. According to The Bloggess, if you google your name and "meme" and look at the images, hilarity ensues. Now, normally when I do things of this caliber, I am sorely disappointed. NOT TODAY!

Ok, that's a good start. I like that.

Nice, it's always nice to be heard.

Been there. Been there too many times.

I'll ignore the "ruff" vs. "rough" because I enjoy the sentiment so much. This is going strangely well.

Ah. Um. Thanks? Kinda creepy, but I guess that's sweet.

That turned quite suddenly, didn't it?

Huh?

I don't even know what that means. Is that English?

I can assure you I am not a transsexual. And if I were, it would be much more Rocky Horror than this implies.

Seriously? And no. Trust me, when I ruin your life it's not just a stupid face moment. It's blood and guts, asshole.

What the hell? Actually, there was a whole stack of memes along these lines. I believe there are some Jades out there who are abusing the privilege.

See? This doesn't even have my name in it!

"Their."

This has a real "Hodor" feel to it. I think we'll leave it there.

So, if you need a giggle, go google your name and meme.

P.S. I just googled "Steve meme" but I didn't like any of them, so here's the one I made a while back. You're welcome.