ARGH! Arghety ARGH ARGH!!!!! ARGH! I’m not auditioning to be a pirate, but I’m definitely in an angry pirate mood. No pics for this one, simply because I’m much too embarrassed about the entire situation. 

Lately I’ve felt like my home, my laptop, and my car have been emulating my life just way too much: they’re all falling apart. It’s absolutely frustrating to know that everything I have works fine, but needs work or would probably be better replaced.

I woke up from my food coma to find out that the kitchen sink has decided to say…. sayonara and leave us the wonderful parting gift of leaking pipes. It has long since been coming, everything around the sink has been well.. dying. I’m not surprised though. One can’t fully expect a kitchen from … the seventies? to stay alive as long as it has. It’s hard to keep a happy face when your misadventures may actually have caused some of the problem that is currently happening.

I feel so bad for Big Momma Bee. That kitchen has been her life almost 20 years. I know she’s really upset and I can’t help but feel like it’s partially my fault. Maybe if I could find a job or be less of a shopaholic or neater this would have never happened. Momma Bee and I were talking about the house today. It is her blood, sweat and tears. And I’m fairly sure I mean that literally. While we were driving home, we talked about what would have happened if we had lost the house. Momma said it would probably be the last straw for her. I agreed that it would probably kill her.

I don’t know anyone else like my mom. Sure, most moms are good and self-sacrificing, but I don’t know anyone else who does it better than my mom. No offense to you moms out there. She has always worked hard to make us happy and has tried her best to ensure our survival, whether it be by leaving her entire family behind to join her husband in a foreign land or giving up her aspirations of being a career woman to make sure her family is able to flourish. That is MY mom. She’d wear clothes from when she came to this country (if they fit), so that we could have what we wanted (within reason). She rarely buys things for herself and if she does it’s usually plates or knicknacks. I mean, if you ever see Big Momma Bee walking through the stores with a fancy pants bag, it’s because she wearing one of mine that happened to be empty and chilling where it wasn’t supposed to be. Big Momma Bee deserves more than I could ever give her. She deserves a better daughter than me.

I’m too bummed to continue this post. Readers, if you can, just send good vibes to my family so that we can find a bit of luck to get through this. Hell, maybe the Sweet, Sweet Company may just be what helps fix our problems. Or…. it may be the end of us.