Stuck. Like a Stick in the Mud. Stuck.

I've got nothing.  I have so much.  I should be writing.  Yet I can't.  The ideas swim.. Back and forth, Back and forth.  None are worthy, funny, smart.  It just seems like day to day.

A swift kick in the ass is necessary.  A jolt, a pinch, a punch something to get me off my current track.  It's dull and boring and repetitive and blah, blah, blah, blah.

Nothing changes, everything stays the same.  I could live my life in my sleep.  Don't ask me to tell you about it but it goes like this....

1.  Alarm rings. slippers on, sweatshirt on.
2.  Awaken children.
3.  Trip over dogs waiting on children.
4.  Dogs outside, lights on.  TV set to PBS kids.
5.  Oldest roused.  "What do you want for breakfast?"  waiting, waiting, waiting.
6. Begin preparing lunch, prior to preparing breakfast.  "What do you want for breakfast?"  waiting, waiting, waiting.
7.  Continue preparing lunch. Feed dogs.  Suggest items for breakfast.  Waiting, waiting, waiting.
8.  7:25 a.m.  "Guys, your breakfast is happening, whether you like it or not."  Breakfast is served.
9. 7:30 a.m Word Girl begins.  Love Word Girl.

10.  7:39 a.m "Boys, go get dressed."  I follow to monitor dressing of boys.  Brushing of boy's teeth, shutting off of lights in boy's rooms.  General maintenance.
11.  7:52  "Get your boots on."  "Get your coat on."  "Where's your backpack?"  Repeat at least 3 times.
12.  7:57 "Q you have to hustle.  Keep moving buddy.  You have got to keep moving."  Blood pressure pushing day time high.
13. 8:00 "Gentleman, we are LATE.  Get your bodies into the car!" I then say, " I love you, see you at pick up, do your best."  When Mr. Handsome is in town, he acts as chauffer.  When he's not in town, this list is much longer.
14.  One more to send off and I am exhausted......  I will spare you the details, but she is the teenager so you can only imagine!

Working on inspiration.  Working on creativity.  Working on me.

Should I be flattered, furious or flabbergasted?

I love getting the mail.  Especially during the holidays because I generally get a few Christmas cards here and there.  Aside from the bills, which come all too frequently, I love getting the mail.

Until today.


Today, in my mailbox was the "American Baby Parenting Magazine,"  an offer to subscribe to "More Magazine, the magazine for women in their 50's" and to add insult to injury,  my "Welcome to AARP" packet.


WTF!


Am I in my child-bearing years?  No, that ship sailed about 1 year ago to the date.  Do I look like I'm 50?  Maybe it's the gray hair.  But AARP?  Someone needs to kick the shit out the person handling their demographic studies.

I am considering contacting my OB/GYN and asking him if he doesn't make enough money at the normal OB/GYN business.  You know birthin' babies, the ever popular annual exam and the boob fondling that comes along with that.  Because obviously he's selling his mailing list to make a little extra cash.

Honestly.  I'm not getting the mail tomorrow.