Missing the hop

There was something amazing and soothing about being in the hop. I miss the worship and hearing the songs. They have a live web feed that I tried to subscribe to, but I couldn't figure out how to make it work. :( Ah well, I probably don't need another thing to use for procrastination, right?

So today, I got back into the swing of my life. The house, that was livable when I left, was trashed. The kids crawled up my rectum and remained there for the rest of the day. I taught my last session of this particular class (YIPPEEEEEEEEEEE!!!) and I'm done with teaching until next week. But that class should be really easy. Except that the prep for it is going to be a pain. ICK.

I'm watching a freaky show right now about some dude who's got two wives and is trying to add a third to the family. The thing that scares me is that he's a counselor with a PhD. I just have the icky chills over it. Someone's got some serious mental wackedoutedness. And the really scary thing is-I'd love to write a book about it.

However, this is not an invitation to That Man to bring in another wife. I'm already grossed out that he has an ex-wife, and I can't imagine having to share. Seriously-how do those women sleep at night knowing their husband is in the next room sleeping with someone else? No way could I handle having him with another woman. (And totally ICK, BTW, at having another MAN here. Can you imagine the horror of having ANOTHER one to deal with?)

Which reminds me-I came home from class tonight, opened the door, and my house smelled like Man Butt. I yell up the stairs to ask if it's him, and he answers back in that sheepish way of his, "I've got really bad gas." Ya think?

Welcome home to me. Please, let me go back to the hop soon.