So Tired I Can't Even Think Up a Clever Title

I have recently learned that 2 Sudafed, 800 mg of Motrin and trace amounts of Novacaine equals Mommy-crack.

While lying awake last night sometime after "Holy Fuck It's Late" but before "No Fuckin' Way Do I Have to Go to Work In An Hour", I thought up 2 great ideas for a post. Do you think I have any clue what either of them might have been now?

I also learned how to make $1,000,000 by Labor Day and that a Sealy Posturepedic mattress will get me a better night's sleep. I watched two Paramedic Shows, The History Channel and The Weather Channel for a really long time. I hear our snowstorm is over.

Instead of coming home after work at 1pm, I went to lunch with Beth. I think I was actually pretty coherent too. But really, you'd have to ask her.

I made Tater his favorite dinner tonight since he showed up with 2 bouquets and a Starbucks after forgetting to turn off his alarm and scaring another couple of years off my life. Then the kids cleaned up so I could go to bed.

Paige, in a loud squeaky voice at 8:30pm from deep under her down blanket and flannel sheets, "What? Your Tuesday Folder? I'm too tired to deal with a Tuesday Folder."

Mac, "Shh. Relax. Just sign here."

Clearly, only one hour of sleep every 38 hours will Fuck Me Up.

And give me a potty-mouth.