Especially in this climate of economic unrest in our province.  It’s like a big game of Battleship and everybody is waiting to see if their ship will be hit with a layoff or missed until the next round.  Sinking ships abound, the fear is almost palpable and people are demanding answers with little response.  Fucking delightful, I tell you.

I seem to be treading safe waters for the moment but lest I be trumping my ace, we will stay still and wait.  All together now, “Kumbaya, ma Lord, Kumbaya…”

The other night at one of our illustrious DH meetings, someone uttered the words “it was magical” and I almost choked on my wine.  Seriously, I couldn’t believe someone said that.  “magical”….wow.  Fucking magical!! Really?  I thought I was going to have to choke on my Dorito until we were swiftly brought back to reality with surly teen behaviours and stories of misbehaving animals…there we go.  THAT is fucking magical.  Reality bites and I rather enjoy our tirades of unruly children and wayward romps into the abyss of alcohol induced escapades, like serenading peeps outside their windows with the infamous Roseanne Edition of the Star Spangled Banner….THAT is fucking magical, people.   Oh sure, the magical story was truly wonderful, but for some reason when the word ‘magical’ came into play, my urge to spit out sarcastic phrases became almost too much to bare…I did manage to restrain myself.  Lucky thing.  I probs would have looked like Bitch to the Extreme had I given in to my sarcastic self…down Ms. Sue Sylvester, down.

Don’t say it, Sue….

I’m not above a good feel good story about family and love and the wonderfulness and boundless amounts of joy that it brings, but I was just not in the ‘let’s all join hands and have a big love-in’ kind of mood.  Sorry.  My bad.  I’m awful…*sigh*

On the positive side, I’ve managed to dodge the ‘you’re an asshole’ bullet once again by totally ignoring all invitations to volunteer at D2’s safe grad.  Yessssss….Had I accepted said invitiation the looks of out-and-out horror on the face of my grad-baby would have been…wait.  That would have been awesome!  Why am I declining?  Hmm….let’s see.  She doesn’t want me within five hundred feet of her grad activities and friends.  Too much opportunity to embarrass her with my bad French and urge to pinch their cheeks and call them ‘cutie-pie’ and ‘does your mother know you talk like that?’ Yeah.   As totally spectacular as that would be for me, I must think of grad-baby and decline said invitation.  I know.  I see how truly disappointed we all are about this however, D2 now realizes what a badass I truly am.  I’m almost as awesome as she thinks I am…almost….