Woke up struggling. The fog is coming, and I think if only my bathrooms are clean, so I attack one of them with a vengeance, then give up. It's clean, it feels good, but it's not enough. My brain buzzes. It short-circuits. It must have been god's plan that I can't attend the party my sister is throwing for my son and all the nearby birthdays. I wouldn't be able to cope. Can't attend because of Drake's virus. They (Jordy and Tasha) are with their dad this weekend anyway, and he made sure Jord had a good birthday breakfast etc. etc. I'm the 'spare' parent lately it seems. Only good enough to tend to sick kids. But before my sister's party my ex and gf brought Jordy and Tasha over so we could give him his bd gift. He was happy. Tasha was teary... not enough sleep from all the dance craziness. I felt inadequate. Spacey. Yet urgent. I just want to sit. Movement makes me unsettled and anxious. My brain lags behind. Everybody has brains which is a thought that freaks me out sometimes. 'No Lucy, mommy can't take you outside right now. Daddy? Daddy's at work remember? He'll be home when you're in bed. Tomorrow Daddy will be home all day, and he can take you to the park. Mommy will come too, it will be fun!' Right now is too loud. Jazz talked about this. Why can't everything come with an off button. The dishwasher...whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh... the t.v. hahaha blah blah hahaha... eeek...blah blah.... my son....why do I have to miss the party... my daughter natter natter natter natter natter. I could off the tv but I need it to take the pressure off me right now. My daughter's requests are driving me bananas. Can I have this can i have that. The messes that need tending to immediately. Can I watch my boo's clues movie, no mom i hate blue's clues it's for baby's - how about spider man? The requests, the questions, the requests, the questions... when I just want to hide. Everything has layers of gauze over it, maybe it's the brain that's wrapped in gauze. Yet some things penetrate too well. The perky look on the brighter side stupid bitch can go to hell. (me not you) I hate her right now. Dumbass Pollyanna. She just doesn't feel the real pain that's there, so what the flip does she know. Yet maybe she'll be back tomorrow, she does helps me survive. The show must go on right? And it's almost bedtime. I can sleep this away. Hopefully. At least there'll be some silence.