No, I'm not all right

I've gotten some emails from some you wanting to know if I'm ok. It seems that when I don't post often enough, people get worried. Or, when I do post, and it's not my normal sarcastic self, people get worried.

Truth be known? No, I am not all right. In fact, I'm half left. Ok, that was a poor excuse for a joke, I know.

Seriously though, I think it's just that time of fucking year.

No matter how much or how little money I have, it's never enough. Or, in actuality, I thought it was going to be enough, then one of my family members got put in jail for an unpaid ticket, and guess who got to help bail them out?? There went that $400 cushion...

The days are too damn short. Not hour wise, obviously, but sun wise. Even though I'm an insomniac, and stay up late, I love the sun. The fact that daylight savings time makes it to where there is an extra hour of sun in the morning does absolutely nothing for me. I need my extra hour in the evening, thank you very much.

Even thought this is the "slow" time of year for us business wise, it's never as slow as we seem to think it is. It's just not as busy as we'd like it to be. But, me being me, decide, "hey, December is slow in the tattoo world, so make sure and keep yourself busy doing other things. Selling wickless candles, making plans with other people, doing things with/for the kids, etc." That's when all hell breaks looses.

I fucking overextended myself - again. I do this regularly, then Husband wonders why I never accomplish anything. It also doesn't help that I am easily sidetracked: working, working, working....wait...did I take care of this?? Check on this. I got it half way done. Decide I need to finish it. Finish. Working, working, working...shit, I forgot I was supposed to do THAT four fucking days ago. Hurry off to do that. Working, working....oh hell, I'm behind on what?? Rush to try and finish what. Working....wait....what the hell was I originally working on? Try and remember for 15 minutes. Phone rings, take care of this and that. Still can't remember what I was originally working on. Say fuck it it's ok, I'll eventually remember. (Yes, this is REALLY what happens to me daily. Seriously. No joke.)

And now, ladies and gentleman, you truly know the answer to. "Are you ok?" (Ok, seriously? You can't figure that out on your own??? The damn answer is NO, I'm NOT ok! Just ask Husband, I'm sure he will be more than happy to provide even more examples of how I lose track of EVERYTHING.)