muddled

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8 Mile, starring Eminem.

Everything's starting to meld. Mekhi Phifer = Akon, Eminem = Rob Thomas, and Brian McKnight = Blair Underwood, I don't know why. None of them are anything alike, I think. And neither person in the last pairing was even in the movie.

It's almost halfway through the month and I haven't made any headway with this month's resolutions. There was a dead bird near the dumpster this morning; Cocoa and I saw it during our morning walk. A fly hovered around the body. It's 2:46 p.m. and Patrick's still asleep. I should probably wake him so we can go to the library.

Patrick's taken over the laundreary duties, since I haven't been able to keep on top of things. I still change the linens, though.

Everyone's been so snappish lately, so stressed. I laugh in the face of all the tension: because I'm helpless, because I'm not as overwhelmed, because we knew it was coming and we just have to deal with it. It's draining though, being the only one smiling.

Tasks for the rest of the day include:

vocal exercises
vacuuming
library run
cleaning out the dishwasher
calling up my mom (to wish her a happy Mother's Day, naturally)
cleaning out one Bankers Box

and maybe a strength training workout and a LAN game of Dawn of War: Dark Crusade.