Whenever I want to title a post, the only thing that comes to mind is, "Crazy, But That's How it Goes." Hmmm....what does that say? Either:



A. I am constantly crazed

B. Old Ozzy Osbourne songs are permanently engraved in my psyche



Neither is particularly comforting.



Yesterday was a crazy day. I announced aloud several times throughout the day that I simply could not deal with chaos and chaos was surrounding me and wickedly taunting my organized, linear thinking soul. I picked up the phone to call Michelle at one point to tell her I was going to be late for a baby shower and also, by the way, that I was probably going to cry when I got there. But I hung up, deciding instead to cry in the car on the way over. Then I decided instead that this situation did not DESERVE one ounce of my tears. So there!



Tonight we had a youth group pool party, kind of a good bye party for two of my girls who have been with me since the beginning. Apparently, though, tonight is not good bye. Now I am going to watch HSM2 with some of them Friday nite and then we are saying our good byes. So tonight was only a touch sentimental. And I guess I am getting too hyper focused on planning for the fall, so that was also on my mind a lot.



On another note, I am trying to decide what to do with Kittyzilla while I am away on an upcoming trip. Apparently, the week of workcamp went well for Ramona until I had been gone five days. Then she decided she did not want her insulin and instead she wanted to kill the petsitter. So the petsitter called upon a second petsitter, apparently the petsitter to end all petsitters who can calm and medicate any raging beast. Not this one, sisters, not this one. So the message was left that they could do nothing with her and I would henceforth and so on need to board her. Besides the fact that boarding her will probably end up killing her because of the stress of it all, I just don't think it is necessary. I mean, really, look at her. This was the day after workcamp.



How bad could she be?*** She is just a cheeky monkey who missed her mom and probably was not afforded her routine and comfort. So after appealing to the woman's who owns the petsitting biz (but interestingly, whom I have never met or seen) we have one last hope. One last petsitter, who after a week of phone tag will be coming over Thursday to check out the situation here at mi casa.








***Note on the photo - after my description of Ramona's psycho behavior during my trip, you might be led to believe from this photo that she ripped out Raggedy Ann's eyeball and chewed off her nose. No, I think that was the work of a small child at some point (me being said small child). When I rummaged through some of my old toys a few years back, I dug ol' Annie out and wanted to try to fix her. She was made for me by one of mamacita's aunts when I was a wee one and I wanted to restore her to her original beauty. Actually, I wanted someone else with mad doll repairing skillz to do it but I cannot find said person...so I bought a googly eye and some felt to do it myself. But my parents, knowing the I do not have mad doll repairing (or sewing for the matter) skillz, talked me out of it. So now she only has one eye and a sad rubbed off nose. Which leads me to remember Jessica's Donny Osmond doll whose arm broke off and was henceforth and always thereafter known as "Dr. One Arm"...but that is a tale for another time.