As an asthmatic, Spring cleaning can be treacherous…especially when you just finished taking a round of prednisone for a lung infection. Fuck me, right? I spent the better part of today dusting our library/computer room, moving books, organizing said books, dusting off said books, dusting off bookshelves, etc. Did I mention DUST? Lots of it. All over every freaking surface and nook and cranny.

Did I mention I’m asthmatic and allergic to dust and dust mites? Oh Joy! Let the coughing begin **cough**cough**BARK BARK** Shoot me now. I’m hoping that I didn’t irritate my lungs to the point of causing another lung infection. That would really suck. I’m also really wonky still – got super weak and weird this morning after not eating enough. I think it may be time to talk to my doctor. Could be my MS, could be nothing. Could be that I’m fat and just need to lose weight (that’s not a joke, I really am overweight by many pounds).

At least the baby is happy (sleeping too!), the younger teen is off to a friend’s over night and the older teen is cursing the ground I walk on as I make her actually clean her room. Queue scary music. I think she hates me right now, that’s ok, I’m her MOM not her bff. I love to tell her how much I love her when she is in that mood…it makes me giggle because I know all too well how it feels because I was that kid. The really messy one whose room you couldn’t even walk into for the amount of crap all over. I was clean about it though – no food in my room, no crap, just clothes and such.

My brain is so random today – I wasn’t even going to blog, but the more I do it, the more I get into it. It’s like a diary without the effort of handwriting…yes, handwriting does indeed take effort when you have carpal tunnel and some as of yet unnamed issue with pain in your hands. My fingers get weak and achy when I write now.

It’s hard because I used to hand write everything. I remember writing ten page essays and then typing them up on my electronic typewriter (I felt so special having and electric one). Computer labs were just becoming a thing. We had one at home, but I hated it unless I was playing a game. By game I mean a small yellow and black screen with a blob that you moved in various ways to attack or find something or escape from stuff. It was fun, really.

Anyways, I was the Luddite of the house. I hated it. I was devoted to my typewriter and my hand written works. Now, I couldn’t imagine writing more than a sick note for my kids. What a lost art that is.

Weird Al – Word Crimes