...

fuck this shit. i'm out of here.

hopefully i'll catch you up by at least Sunday, but for now, I'm evacuating to Georgia.

good luck, louisiana.

ETA: Okay. I'm not going to Georgia. If you knew how my son reacts to a drive longer than 45 minutes, you'd understand. But we are going upstate. An hour drive. I still think we'll be too close, but that's just because I have been an emotional ball of self destruction these last couple days. The storm is not entirely at fault here. My husband helped, and so did... uhm... everything else.

Have you ever had one of those days where everything annoys you so badly that you just want to punch somebody in the head? Yeah, well, I have been on the verge of mass murder for a week now, and I see no end in sight. I don't know what it is, it's not like I am on the rag or anything. Everyone is talking about the storm and I wish they'd all, to put it eloquently, shut the fuck up. Everyone is on edge like they just took a 800 milligram percacet. Id rather talk about ingrown toenails. Also, people keep stealing my smokes. I purposly purchase and smoke menthol cigarettes because I know no one smokes them here except for me. Now all of a sudden, they're getting deboned. I know, maybe I should stop smoking altogether because it is better for me, I'll save money, I won't smell like an ashtray, Jesus will come, yeah yeah yeah.

But until I become at peace in my mind, I will smoke. It calms my nerves for the 4 minutes and 21 seconds it takes to smoke one. If I try real hard, I can make it last for almost 5 minutes. But most of the time I am too lazy. Wait, that didn't make sense. Do I ever make sense?

Sometimes I wonder what some of you think of me when you finish reading this crap. Probably nothing good. Don't tell me. I can tell you I don't smell like ashtray. I always smell good. Even when I have swamp ass. Why am I writing this? Probably because it is 1:15 am and I am delusionally tired.

James' friend Alex is coming home for a 2 week leave. He is stationed in Korea. The farther away he is from me, the better I feel inside. This kid is a fucking lunatic. Crazy. Out of his mother fucking mind. Funny he is coming right before Gustav makes landfall. Just what we need. A crazy lunatic here while 130 mile an hour winds wipe us off the map. And I am not saying he is crazy just because I personally do not like him, he is literally crazy. He got piss drunk one time at the bowling alley and threatend an old man with a broken bottle because he glanced at him. The guy was 90 and could barely lift his arm up to defend himself. It was so awkward afterward because it took us 10 minutes to calm him down and the old man was still walking to his car... he was THAT old. What a walk to the car that must have been. He was probably thinking "Crazy young whippersnappers." Or... "I ought to run those sons'a bitches over." That's the kind of old person I'll be. Really mean. Because I'll have the authority. I'll have crazy road rage, and I'll scare off little kids with my broom stick on my front porch. Ahh, what a life.
Okay, I am done writing. Sorry you had to read this.

PS: I clicked on the spellcheck button, and almost everything turned out to be mispelled. Unfortunately, I am entirely to lazy right now to fix everything. How did I misspell all of that? What is wrong with me?

PSS: I found my cigarettes. They were near the toaster. I probably left them there, but I am full of anger so I am going to blame it on someone else.