Hey Peeps. What's up. I don't really have a lot to talk about right now. Unless you care that I just mopped my floor and ate chips for breakfast. But, that's OK. I lost 3 lbs. I can have chips if I want. Not with my coffee, though. Ew. That would be gross.

I got my first royalty statement for my book. Anyone wanna guess how many books have sold so far? Go ahead. Guess. It's a respectable number. Or at least I think so. But, perhaps I am biased. It's not like the check was big, but that was because I had an advance. I can buy a few coffees, anyway. My next check will be bigger. Assuming the book continues to sell well. So, if you haven't already bought a few copies, the link is in the sidebar. Wink wink. It's never to early to buy for Christmas!

I also just sent in another deisign that was accepted. I don't know which book it will be in yet, but you can all be sure I'll let you know.

I have to work tonight. I'll be missing Survivor. Maybe someone can give me an update once it's over. Last week's tribal council was HILLarious. I love when people get blindsided on camera like that. SO funny.

Boring post, I know. I can't be witty and charming ALL the time peeps, although we all know I try. This time you can blame it on my husband and dog. They had a symphany of snores last night that was designed to lull me into a sleep only to yank me back out again. Over and over. Brilliant execution. Not even coffee will help me today, methinks.

That's a word we don't use enough anymore. Methinks. Today's assignment for y'all is to use the word 'methinks' in a sentance.

Go forth and enjoy your day.

I've been working. And working. And workings some more.But, yes. I have been on Facebook a lot, too. I can't help it. It's very addictive. And not in a good way, like a yarn addiction. It's a little bit disturbing, as well.

I'm finding all kinds of friends and aquaintances that I never really thought to hear from again. Some I'm happy to see. Some I'm leary of. Some are surprising. Almost all of them make me feel old. And, in one case, a friend I have tried to look up in the past won't be found because I just found out that he died about eight years ago. And I didn't even know.

I've always told people that if I don't keep in touch, it's not them, it's me. I'm horrible at it. But, that's about to stop. I don't want to find out in another 8 years that someone else that I cared about is gone and I didn't do all I could to keep in contact.

Overall, though, Facebook is a riot. I won't be stopping. If anyone else has a facebook account and wanted to try finding me, it wouldn't be that hard. Wink wink.

If you don't already have an account, though, just a word of warning. You may have nothing but great times finding people and catching up. Or, your facebook experience may sound something like this:

YOU: Hi Facebook, what's up? What? What's this? You have something for me. How nice. What is it? It's odd looking. Like a cylinder of some sort. Made of metal. Huh. Interesting. A can. Thanks, I guess. What? You want me to OPEN it? Oh, OK. Sure. Do you know where I could get a can opener? Oh, you have one. How handy. Great. Hang on, let me just open this here can.....hang on....almost have it.....AHHHH! WORMS!! What the hell!? Facebook, you gave me a can of worms! And I opened it! WHY, FACEBOOK, WHY?


Just a warning.

How much FREAKING fun is facebook?!?!!!!!

I know I haven't said much about the Amazing Race this run, but I have been watching it. It was a little anti-climactic when Rob and Amber left. I was really rooting for them. Why? I don't know. I hated them both on the their first Survivor, then grudgingly respected their second Survivor. By the first TAR they were on, I loved them. I want to invite them over to my place for a BBQ. Maybe a few beers. Except that I don't drink beer, so maybe Amber and I can have some nice wine coolers.

Anyway....

I am at the point where I may have to watch the final legs of the race with my eyes closed. Because to watch the 'Little People' win this race would be enough to shatter my fragile mental state. It really would. Yes, I call them BOTH 'Little People'. Not politically correct? Maybe. If I was talking about any one's height. I'm not. I'm referring to their BRAIN CAPACITY.

What IDIOTS they are. They are the rudest and most ignorant people. In ANY country. And what's with the stupid half Spanish, half eastern-European accent they use in every single country? Even the ones where people speak English. Shut up, already.

Sure, it's somewhat entertaining to watch a midget in a suit of armor. A downright giggle-fest, really. But, I would rather they were gone. I don't like them. If I knew them in real life, I would have to get Amber to put down her wine cooler and kick their asses.

I know they put people like that on the show, just so all of us watchers will rant and rave and hop on their blogs and message boards and mention TAR and the contestants as many times as possible so that they can be king of the castle in the world of Google. I know. And yet, here I am, giving them what they want.

Whatever. Next week. Next week they'll be gone. The idiots.

Rambles

*please note that I AM aware that today is Friday the Thirteenth. I know that in the past I have made a big deal about it, but those are usually Friday the Thirteenths in which I can spend my day cowering in my house while sticking my tongue out and making random rude noises and occasional yelled curses at Friday the Thirteenth and all the bad luck that comes with it. Since I cannot hide in my house today and must brave the big, scary Friday the Thirteenth world to go to work later, I have decided on a new tactic. I'm just ignoring it. Yup. I'm blatantly choosing to forget what today's date it. Beyond this special note, that is. Or when I get to work later and have to write the date about 800 times in one shift. But, otherwise, I am NOT going to comment on the date. At all. Sorry. OK, on to the non-scary (at least not in a Friday the Thirteenth way) post.

Hey.

What's up?

Yes, I spent the week in bed. It was actually for health reasons, this time. And I don't mean mental health. It was migraines and a cold. I'm very sorry to say that my week in bed was not enjoyable.

Today I am paying for it by needing to clean my entire house in a few hours. Blech. My littlest kid (aka Little Brat), had her 5th birthday the other day, and tomorrow will be her party. So, the house has to be clean. If you've been keeping up with my sporadic posting, you may have an idea of how much cleaning there is. However, I have already planned my shortcuts. The office and bedroom doors will be closed. If you don't tell the other moms what's behind those doors, neither will I.

I'm really hoping that only a few kids show up for the party. Is that wrong? Whatever. She's five. She'll get over it.

Right now we are absolutely covered in snow. Yes, snow. I know. It's spring. And even though I am in Canada, this is STILL ridonkulous. It's the middle of flipping April, Mother Nature. Give me a ding dong break. Yesterday morning, when the snow started, Little Brat did a 'stop snowing dance' to, well, make the snow stop. I'm not sure what she did, but I think she made it snow harder. We have more snow right now than we did at Christmas. Thanks, Brat. Thanks a lot. Keep your bad mojo to yourself.

Umm......what else....

So, last weekend, I actually spent 2 whole nights in my house....ALONE. Yes, alone. The whole fam damily drove to the mother-in-laws (two hours away) on Good Friday for Easter dinner, but I had to work on Saturday, AND we were expected back on Sunday for dinner at the father-in-laws. So, I drove back on Friday night on my own. To spend Friday and Saturday night on MY OWN. I can't even remember the last time that happened. I think I was still in my teens.

As I was driving home, all by myself, without kids fighting or a husband changing the radio station, or anyone (except me) needing to stop for pee breaks, I decided to stop and get a snack. I went to MacDonald's. Yes, without kids. Why? I'm not sure. I was going to get a Coke, but then a little word popped into my head. Milkshake. MILKSHAKE. Why don't I get a milkshake? When was the last time I got myself a milkshake? I couldn't remember. Why? Why have I stopped buying milkshakes?

And then I remembered. KIDS. Kids, who beg and whine and plead for milkshakes have FORCED me to be an example of a responsible person and not have a milkshake every day. Or, apparently, ever.

But, I was alone. ALONE. I didn't have to be an example to anyone. So, I ordered a milkshake. For just my very self. I am also, it seems, entirely out of practice ordering milkshakes, because I asked for a large.

Did you know that the large MacDonald's milkshake is roughly the size of one of those firefighting buckets then hang under helicopters? I had no idea. Of course, I didn't want to cause a fuss and ask for a different size, so I just told myself "Come on, Tara. Just because you have 83 litres of milkshake, it doesn't mean you have to drink 83 litres."

Yeah, right. Obviously, I don't listen to myself any better than my kids do. And obviously, I should leave milkshake drinking to the more experienced. Perhaps those with larger stomachs.

Thank Folgers my kids didn't see that.

Off to drink coffee and clean. I promise.

I want to thank everyone who commented and emailed yesterday. I'm so glad I have y'all as friends. I'm not embarrassed about being depressed, but it's certainly not the kind of thing that I advertise. People don't really seem to look at you the same once they think you are a few turnip sacks short of a full load. As a result, I never seem to be able to vent. I should have known I could count on all of you.

Depression is not new to me or my family. Thankfully, I do not get as severely depressed as the rest of them. I've never needed the happy pills before (although I am considering it now), and I have never been suicidal. My family (and I mean EVERYONE in my family) gets pretty crazy once in a while. A lot of them are on pills and it's not all that much of a surprise anymore to hear of a botched suicide attempt. It's pretty tiring, actually, but I'm glad most of them are so bad at it. So far, only my grandmother and a bottle of Tylenol 3 were successful (that was about 22 or so years ago).

Anyway, I'm not that bad. And I wouldn't let myself get that bad. If the worst part of my depression is a messy house and some pretty crappy feelings, I won't stress too much about that. But, it is hard to tell people in your life about it.

I've discussed it with my husband, but it tends to freak him out. Like a typical male, he wants to FIX things. Like I'm broken, or something. He immediately assumed that I was unhappy with my life, blamed himself, then started making plans to quit the army, move out west and be a cop (so I could be closer to my family). I told him HE was nuts. I don't want to move. I'm not unhappy.

I think that's the hardest part to explain to the non-depressable people. There is a HUGE difference between sad and unhappy. They want to pin the sad feelings to something. Some event or person. They are just random feelings, though. The only difference is that once the depression is there, little events DO make you sad or angry when they normally wouldn't.

For instance, we have no brakes on our van. I've already missed one shift and will have issues getting to work tonight. It's stressful. So I stayed in bed until almost noon.

Also, the dinosaur diorama was actually fun to make yesterday. It even has a few play-doh blobs that slightly resemble dinosaurs. And a volcano. And rocks. And, because five-year-olds always want to contribute their favorite play-doh masterpieces, the diorama has a few pre-historic play-doh snakes. And worms. And purple logs for the triceratops to eat. Unfortunately, I woke this morning (afternoon) to find that the pterodactyl has vanished. I strongly suspect the cat, since he was trying to play with it last night as it lay drying, but it could have been the dog, too. Lucky for both of them that I don't know who did it. Usually the thought of making a new play-doh dinosaur would perk me up. Not today. I don't really feel like it.

So, I guess I will spend the rest of the day trying to clean the kitchen and hoping I get a way to go to work.

Thanks again, everyone. Y'all are like my own little happy pills.

Where I Have Been Hiding

I have to be honest with y'all. I haven't been online much. In the past few weeks, I've mostly only been on the computer to check my bank accounts and to write a few emails. I have not really had any interest at all in doing anything else.

I want to assure all of you that it's not you, it's me. I've been a little on the depressed side. It's not really bad. At least not right now. I was starting to get really crazy a few months ago, but I am feeling a little better each day.

There's nothing wrong. Really. It's all chemical. My kids are fine. My husband is fine. And, although my new job is new and slightly more stressful than counting up dollar store items, this started way before I got a new job. I'm reasonably sure that it started out as a seasonal thing. What with not seeing sunshine between October and February.

I am spending most of my off-time in bed. I pretty much just want to sleep right now. There's not enough coffee in the world to perk me up. Ironically, all of my new co-workers like to tell me that I have more energy than anyone they know. Weird. I have been crocheting a bit, because I have a deadline for a small publishing project, but not as much as I should be. Usually a deadline would make me a lot more industrious.

Of course, my main problem, which I was afraid of happening, is my hoarding issues. This is not the first time in my life that I have been depressed, so I should know what to expect. I get in this state of mind where any amount of dirt or untidiness in the house makes me want to huddle in a corner and cry. As a result, I ignore it. And so the mess piles up. And up. And UP. My house is disgusting right now.

It's difficult to explain to people who have never felt it. I can't actually physically make myself clean things. I try. I try to make plans and lists. I tell myself that all I have to do is pick up that thing off the floor and put it away, but then I start to feel overwhelmed and end up going to bed.

Anyway, that's what I have been doing the last few weeks. Hiding in bed. But, I am gradually starting to feel better. I am out of bed right now, at 9:37 am, so that's already an improvement. And I plan to help my youngest with a dinosaur diorama for school later on. That may help.

Don't worry about me. I'm OK. Or at least I will be. And I think I can come online more often now. In between trying to catch up on my cleaning. Baby steps, though. I have to be careful not to overwhelm myself, or else I end up right back in bed again.

So, that's my excuse. I'm sorry. I'll be around more. And maybe I will even be funny again soon, and not so lame and depressing.