Balancing the Warrior 8

Well just it all. . . I sure am tired of this thread. This morning finds me tempted to pick a random justie from The Dumb Broad Puppet Show and *just* make it work. Like that will work any better this time than it has all the other times I have tried it. . . Ya got to come from the heart if you want it to work. It takes what it takes.

My cursing is cleaner when I stick to the standardized taboo word lists. It gets seriously grody when I start compulsively translating those taboo words into socially acceptable dialects. Yes, compulsive is the word for it. The translations pop out, whether I want them too, or knot. There are quite allot of creative, technically acceptable translations available for "bull fucking shit." I found myself doing exactly that yesterday when my church friends asked for the latest updates on the contractor stonewall. The shocked looks on the friendly faces served as a potent reminder that an unbalanced warrior can be a menace to society, whatever the costume the warrior is wearing on any given day.

I am thoroughly sleep saturated right now. Restorative sleep seldom visits me when I am sleep saturated. Sleeping beyond my physical need isnae resting. It is evasion. Last night's dreams were somewhere between Disney world and poetic. Downright purty. As I laid in bed a while longer, attempting to hold on to the warm glow, my thoughts shifted back to . . . Well. . . I am grateful that Hubby's good ol' boy talk with the contractor warned me that the last promise of work starting today is still on the Honey Do plan. I'll get to it when I get to it, Honey. I'm hoping Hubs can rub zippers with him again to get a more precise scheduling plan.

For now, it's laundry time. The laundromat I have been using is open 24/7. It remains just plain hard, but I believe I am holding steady. Prayers in progress.