It's bedtime.

Not bathtime or dinnertime or storytime or wipe the nose time. Not piano lesson time or school bus already passing our house get out there and run! time. Not Miller time or Hammer time.

I am tyred. ARms heavy can't type any numbers because they are too far up on the keyboard. Mrs. Sheehan my ninth grade typing teacher would be disGUSTED right now. She had us sit with our backs straight and one foot slightly ahead of the other, fingers on asdf jkl; and wrists UP and OFF the desk. If your wrists are UP they are READY for ANYTHING, she would say. What besides typing would they be ready for, I wondered.

Tomorrow is a PD day for the boys which means I will be getting out of this house by mental time which is usually about 10:30 am. They both need hair cuts, which should be interesting as the last time monty had a haircut at a salon was the LICE DISCOVERY DAY. So I won't be going back to that place. And the time before that it was like watching semi pro wrestling. I think I blogged about it way back in oh May or June 2004.

Can't believe I will have had this blog for a whole year on March 1st! I have never done anything that was entirely optional for a whole year before in my whole life. Anything writing wise, anyways. I may have to celebrate. I may have to have a Stella Artois.

Alright well let me out of here I must go to bed and read a little Lords of Discipline. I love buying these funky paperbacks from the Amity, you never know what youre going to read next. Yesterday I picked up a 1977 copy of Alex Haley's ROOTS. Hey, I did say I loved the show Good Times, didn't I?

NIght.

A.