Better Living Through Medicine, Damnit.

So I'm on the juice. I was on the Wellbutrin for two weeks before I upped the dose to two a day. (per my doctor's instructions) And the only difference I can tell is that I'm cussing like a sailor. So far my shitty attitude about living in this one horse town has not improved. I'm on the brink of another Letter to the Editor...

POWER TO THE PEOPLE, YOU COWPOKE POLITICAL SHITHEADS!!!!

If my neighbor sends me one more bad political joke, likening my black lab to a welfare recipient I'm gonna burn this mother down. (Thus the trip to Doc Pritchard's for a Happy Pill) I'm renaming this joint Skunk Trails. And how bout the old dude who formally met my husband the other day and said "Oh! I've seen your check in the collection basket and I was wondering who you were!" What the hell. Really? I've got one foot out the door there as well. My best next door neighbor is moving because he's the Athletic Director at the High School (Read Head Football Coach) and god forbid we have a season or two in a row where we don't win district. The last head football coach was shot by a disgruntled parent. And I'm thinking, what have I done? And guess what, you can't write a Letter to the Editor or call BULLSHIT on anything because then your kids will get blackballed. Because you're a nobody. A newbie from somewhere else, whom they're just as happy to see go, as stay.

DAMNSHITASSWIPECRAPPYSHITJACKASSFUUUUUUUUUDDDDGGGE....

And I didn't even give up candy for lent. Imagine it.
(Thanks for letting me get that off my chest. Maybe I can still write all my Letters to the Editor right here.)

On a funnier note, yesterday I was looking for Peach so that we could get ready for our first soccer practice and I couldn't find her.
I said "Ace, where's Peach?"
He says, "She's in her prayer place."
"Her what?"
"Her prayer place."
"Prayer place?"
"Yeah, she built a prayer place outside with bricks."
"Oh! That's nice, is that for lent?"
"What's lent?"

Bum-dum-pah!