Haven't Blogged in ages....

So. I read a really awesome blog today and it reminded me that I'm a blogging failure and haven't blogged in ages. So, here I am.

What has happened in the last six months or more??? Jeez. Where to begin? I was going to write about all the depressing shit in my life and then decided no one really wants to know. Most don't care. Seriously, if you're a friend of mine or on Facebook you already know most of what goes on in my life, so writing about it here is superfluous.

Superfluous, adverb. Redundant. More than necessary. Excessive.

My girlfriend gave my daughter a cat. This many of ya'll don't know. I'm not normally a cat person, but I have this paralyzing fear of mice. Seriously. When we bought this house I had nightmares about mice for like a year. We live right across the street from a lake surrounded by huge pine trees. Yeah. We get mice out here. Once I had a dream that we had a mouse in the house. The mouse was on the staircase and he had a mickey mouse Fantasia magician hat, but he looked like a big field mouse. And, BTW, Walt Disney, mice are not cute and it is just sick that you immortalized this rodent to deceive children into loving something as sick as mice. Just saying. Anyway, in the dream, the wizard mouse was able to paralyze me with his beady stare. He didn't even need a wand! What the hell? He paralyzed me with his beady stare and opened my fridge and stole all my food. Bastard.

So, I'm okay with the cat. He's actually kind of cute. Edwin is his name. He's an itty bitty fur ball who hates me, but he's cute. I feed him, I clean his poop, I rescue him from my dog who is obsessed with his little peanuts... And yet, he sleeps with the husband. But, he's being trained to chase away the demented Disney mice. Yessss.... He doesn't know it yet but as soon as big enough to fight off the hawks and random bald eagles out here his butt is getting kicked OUT! Not like, totally out, just long enough during the day to stalk the mice that haunt my house.
Yeah. I should probably admit that Patrick is certain I'm just insane and the mice are not real. He found a dead one in the garage, but the crazy wife is just overreacting.

I'm mostly just concerned that Edwin will feel the need to present the imaginary mice to Patrick on our bed.