Sometimes I think I have ADD.

If you start the day via email conversations about dog breeds for apartments, I worry about us.

If the highlight to your day is taking out the recycling, then finding 2 Widmer bottles that can be reused for home brewing...I worry about us.

If not having any more laundry to do on Monday morning because you did it all on Sunday, I worry about us.

If you haven't seen your stinkin' Little Man nephew in a month-plus and worry that he's growing warts on every appendage...I really worry about us.

If you can't decide whether to recycle the bubble wrap and boxes from your birthday presents because you might need them for Christmas shipping, but then realize this is how hoarding compulsions start...I super worry about us.

If you're addicted to 16 and Pregnant or Teen Mom, and think that Amber is a psycho hose-beast...well I don't worry about us.  Because that bitch is c-razy.

I think Mondays are evil.  My roommate leaves to bring home the bacon.  And I sit here in my skirt, pearl necklace, Virginia Slim cigarettes, working on my marksmanship with the neighborhood boy Glen.  Oh wait, that's not me.  But still...that creeper of a boy.  I don't like him.  I don't like him at all.