You’re too sensitive, stop taking things so personally

Caution: eyeroll emoji overload (sorry not sorry) ๐Ÿ™„

You have been warned. ๐Ÿ˜›

At no time in my life have I ever felt more overly sensitive about every little thing than while raising teenagers.

Shocking, I know. ๐Ÿ™„

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Sleeping arrangements, puppy drama and other mayhem

I’m trying to get my oompf back to write, come up with a subtitle for my second ebook, finish editing, and it’s not working.

So blogging it is. At least my fingers are typing.

I’m typing this at my mom’s house. I arrived here with girl and dog in tow shortly before lunch.

Welcome to my room aka office.
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Old and ugly

Something has been percolating in my brain for a while, but I couldnโ€™t find the words to talk about it on a public forum until today. Perhaps I will find the words if I simply type them into the keyboard.

It began with a syndicated episode of The Big Bang Theory. I see the scene in front of me but I canโ€™t find it when I google it. Itโ€™s not so much the scene that made an impression anyway, itโ€™s the phrase.

This is how I remember it (paraphrased):

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A quick update and some questions for you

I have two half-posts ready for Tarot Tuesdays but they sound odd. They are not ready to publish. I may skip this week and get back to my scheduled Tuesday series next week.

I also have another post almost ready where I complain about a comment Penny made on The Big Bang Theory. It hit a nerve. Allow me to give you a glimpse: old people are ugly.

Ya… no. I’m not in the right mood to address this comment today. ๐Ÿ˜›

AND, I have a lovely photo post almost ready to publish describing my first venture out to lunch at an outdoor patio. That happened last week when I spent six days with mom in the suburbs. On a whim, we decided to go to the old part of town and have pizza. They renovated the entire downtown along the Lakeshore, and it was really cute to go wander around and find a place to have lunch after the excruciating 16+ months of being locked up like inmates.

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Heartbreak

My son’s last quadmester (4th semester consisting of two subjects due to remote/virtual learning) began a couple of weeks ago. It will run until the end of June, probably online. And then, he’ll have graduated grade 10 from inside of his bedroom. Thank you Mr. Trudeau and Mr. Ford. You are both equally to blame. (Don’t at me unless you’re Justin or Doug, I’m not going to rant and debate about this today.)

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Inattentive

Today my writing and concentration are beyond erratic. I keep jumping around, can’t seem to grasp one idea to run with, can’t seem to develop what I’ve already started, can’t seem to focus…so I decided to jot down the things that entered my head and begin a bunch of draft folders. I’ll pick them up another time when my mind is calmer and I’m in a better headspace.

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