Daytime Television Sucks

I got out of bed this morning, kissed Thomas off to work, and hobbled right back into bed. Hunched over and feeling like I had been hit by a Mack truck somewhere between Saturday morning and this morning. That Mack truck? Her name is Janae and she is a former gymnast now personal trainer who has been put on this Earth to cause me misery and constant pain. She's evil. Cute, but evil. You want to walk around like an 80 year-old woman with bad hips and a hump on your back? Hire my trainer for 30 minutes. You won't be disappointed. So here I am, at home. One dog on the bed beside me snoring quite loudly, but adorably, and the other buried under the covers, also being adorable.

I did manage to get out quite a bit over the weekend, even with the hobbling and the looking like an old lady with osteoporosis. I almost fit in perfectly at the casino yesterday. The only thing I was missing was my electronic wheelchair and oxygen tank. However, the cigarette and steaming cup of coffee was present. Winning $200 helped ease the pain for about five minutes til I realized at some point I would have to get up from my slot machine and make my way back to the car. Some people spend Easter with family looking for hidden decorated eggs and stuffing themselves with chocolate and green bean casserole. Me? I spend it with Thomas and his family sitting around poker tables, drinking, and fighting my urge not to knock out the woman next to me who had never played blackjack before in her life yet she chooses to play at my table and fuck up two of my hands before I get up and go back to slot machines where I belong. Don't get me wrong, I prayed to Jesus several times yesterday and on the great day of His rising He proclaimed that it was indeed my lucky day and I was blessed with mad cash yo. Thanks, Jesus. You rock.


Come on, mama. Let's take another nap.