THAT'S NOT A THING

This is pretty much an extended vaguebook post.
By the way, did you know there's a whole site other than Facebook that's dedicated to vaguebooking?? THERE IS.
(Also, have you checked this week's Secrets yet? I haven't either, but I thought I'd take a sec to remind us both.)
Anyway, you know when you're just so fed up with a sitch and you're just like, 'Yooooo, That's Not A Thing, I Am OUT, I Just CAN'T WITH THIS.'?
My dear, sweet Marv is the Queen of making not-a-things into OMG THINGS, and I'm like, honey-baby-darling, could you Just Fucking NOT? The other day, she forgot to have me sign a form, so she came in my room in the middle of the night when it was still pitch-black outside (8 am), and I couldn't even hardly open my eyes and I'm all like, I'll just get up and we can go in the kitchen where I can maybe see what I'm doing and have a hard surface to write on and stuff, and she's like, no, it's fine, and tries to turn on my bedside lamp, but apparently has never ever used a lamp before (side note: I love lamp) and turns the turny-onny stem thing the wrong way so she's just unscrewing it and somehow, it still turns on the very second the screwy thing falls off the damn lamp and rolls under my bed, and because she had slept in my bed the night before, I had gotten about 23 seconds of sleep, and this was literally like the worst thing ever. I'm like OMG, if you would have just let me get my damn slugass out of bed, this wouldn't have been the worst thing ever.
Last night, she wanted me to make steak. Even though there's like, a wall of flotsam, jetsam, and detritus in front of the grill (because nothing ever gets actually cleaned, my children just move their junk to another place where I won't see it for a bit and I'll get off their backs about it), and then, as soon as I'm standing in the smoke and steam of a 550° grill, she's like, I need these forms signed by tomorrow. I'm like, it's only 5-fucking-thirty, calm the fuck down, that shit's gonna combust from both the heat of the grill and my fiery rage RN, so if you could just put them on the fucking table, I will deal with them when I'm done sweating my ass off for you. KTHXBYE.
ANYWAY, LONG STORY NOT MADE ANY SHORTER: STOP MAKING 'things' INTO 'THINGS'. You know that thing you're dealing with right now? Yeah, it probably sucks, but you know what, it's not even really a thing. Or, at least, it's not as big of a thing as you're making it into. It could just be a 'whatever'. Take a deep breath, have a nap or a drink or a smoke or a snack, watch some Netflix or something. Or read the fucking news and be grateful that your thing isn't nearly as bad as the actual Things happening out in the world.


Speaking of things happening out in the world, my kids scored an invite to U of I's Black Alumni celebration. (And not the kid you'd think! it was addressed to OperationDelta, not DJStruggs!)

Anyway, I know it's short notice, but maybe we should go? Although, I am a little offended he only got the invite for the 'Day Party'. That implies there's a 'Night Party' where shit is probably LIT AF, but apparently, we didn't qualify for that. Check out that Ciroc Flavors special, tho!!! 

#GinOut #LitAF