The side you won't see...other than here.

I'm hungry.

It's not the kind of hunger that a Moon Pie can fix. It's one of *those* hungers, where you sit around and wonder what can get your life back to where you're not so hungry. It's like my bones ache for just a little happiness in life.

Sometimes, I think $1000 would do it. Just a little lift, you know. Something to go right. Sometimes, I think a little legislation would do it--you know, giving us little self-employed homeowners who had the audacity to get married a break. Sometimes, I think just a good cry might do it. Hell, a little break in the weather would help, seeing as how my AC unit in my bedroom/office/web design/life room died. It's hot.

But none of that seems to be happening, and I'm just sitting here, overwhelmed, exhausted to the point of ineptitude, but I still have to work. That means multi-syllabic (you don't want to know how many times it took spellcheck to get that right) medical words of some procedures that I'm actually jealous these people are having.

And I'm typing colorectal stuff tonight. Does my life suck or what?

I hate that this sounds so whiny, but really nothing has happened to make my life more encouraging lately. Bills are behind. My other computer crashed, and I was out of work for that company. The kids do/don't get along, but more don't than do. I sometimes think I could scream and no one would notice. I broke my toe once and did just that. I think the cat came and checked on me.

The dog keeps getting loose. My dog is 100 pounds. He's the world's most perfect dog--except he likes to escape if he sees any opportunity. He's never bitten anyone. Hell, I'm not sure if he's ever even growled at anyone, but the sight of a big dog like that barreling down the street could give a person a heart attack, or cause someone to run away from him and hurt themselves in the process. Stud's right. He *is* a liability, but the thought of letting him go is hard. He saved my face once from a raccoon. Who knows how many crimes he's deterred just by being here? The houses around us always seem to be targeted. How many weirdos have *not* accosted my kids while playing outside, just because he's on patrol? We don't know. We live on a busy street. I don't know what to do. I had Junior take his picture tonight. He looks so happy, lounging on the stairs with his legs hanging down. I might need to make a free-to-a-good-home poster, and it's killing me. I will NOT take him to the pound. He's too good of a dog to put down. He's beautiful in temperament. Shit, fuzzy fuck, the kids used him as a pillow when they were small! Like I said, he saved my face from a cornered raccoon. He loves us. It hurts.

So I'm hungry again. I have a hole, right here. Can't you see it? Anyone?