"Good Morning" says Mr. House. I'm caught off guard. Mr. House continues, "You look Chipper" Ah ha! I knew it was going to start. Wait for it... "You finally going to do something about me? It's depressing. You look like you have all the energy in the world. You've slept, you've exercised, you're ready to move on in your life. Right?" Mr. House looks hopeful. Funny, I thought hope could only come from something with a soul. Glowering, I survey the damage. Mr. House is right. It is depressing. Dishes left undone by the chiclets. Mail waiting for Important Decisions. Sighing I begin my script. I see Mr. House glaze over with boredom, "Well, as soon as I'm done with breakfast, then therapy for Chickadee, and grocery shopping then I can. But I'll have to make a list first. And I haven't helped the kids clean up their playroom in a while. They must've sat on all those bags of clothes I sorted. ...
The life of a train wrecked woman, trying to get back on track.