My blog is broken~

~ and I'm too lazy to fix it. Quirky little pics and videos and GIFS are MIA and oh freakin well. So right this moment I have free time- I think. I'm not sure how to act or what to do, but I'm sure as hell not gonna fix shit. I'm not going to do another load of laundry either. I think I have free time. I'm sure I don't. I never do. I should be asleep. I should be doing laundry. I should be doing dishes. Vacuuming, cleaning, fixing the hole in the drywall in the ceiling because Sgt. Dad is never, ever going to fix it. There's never enough time for anything, and yet I feel like I'm not doing anything at all. There's no time for drama, mine or anyone else's. There's no time for sleep. There's no time for fun. There's no time for me. That blows. Maybe I'm greedy or selfish- I've heard that a time or 10, but damn it why can't there be time for me after I'm done taking care and cleaning up after every damn person in this house. Would it hurt if I poured a glass of wine and watched an old movie? Yes, yes it would. Because then I will go to bed and stare at the ceiling and think about bills, how we should put the dog to sleep, and how there's still a hole in the living room ceiling and why Sgt Dad is working a crap job with crap hours even though he's worth so much more and he's too lazy to look elsewhere, and why won't he get his front tooth repaired because it's weird when I kiss him, how the truck needs washed, and the Durango needs fixed, and how the driveway needs a load of gravel. All of these stupid trivial unimportant things. And after I think about all of that and I start to fall asleep, Mini-Man will get up and tell me he can't breath and I'll have to get up and fix him and then I'll try again, and wonder why I can't keep him healthy and why his prescriptions cost so dang much, and wonder if my other son is autistic because surely there must be some reason he acts the way he does, and wonder if I should make myself a doctor's appointment because surely I have an ulcer. And I'll wonder if I'm doing ok as a parent. And I will wait and want for sleep, and it will never come, and tomorrow we'll do it all over again. Is this normal? I'm pretty certain that normal is just a setting on my dishwasher that actually translates to- doesn't wash shit. Also- something is dripping in my kitchen. Maybe the fridge. Who knows. I'm sure that translates to- another hole in the ceiling/ wall. 

So yea- the blog is broken but I'm not gonna fix it because yea- I have enough stupid shit on my very tiny plate. Stupid. Shit. Anyone else with angst about stupid shit? And I mean stupid stuff. Not serious legit stuff. Stupid silly unimportant nonsense that adds up make you want to scream....