How is it that something that was such a sorce of enjoyment for me has been turned into a dirty little secret that I must slither away to do. That which was an hour of self expression has become a frustrating 5 minutes of "YEAH, I'll be there in a moment. give me a blessed minute will ya?"

My blogging has turned into one more of those things that irritates my family as it requires my attention and therefore means I am NOT ON for them.

I have been feeling a certain Krakatuoa type of explosive impulse lately and I am afraid it will erupt with all the force of a deadly volcanoe if I cannot be left alone.

It began with the death of my Snuffy, my best friend and side kick. I had no idea of the depth of grief I could feel at the loss of my dog. After all, he was a dog, right?
It seems that, despite all my efforts to be adult and mature, I must have been some kind of raving lunatic as my family have not left me alone for 5 minutes. I think they are afraid I will implode or run out to th e park and abduct a neighbors dog. (Not that I haven't thought about it).

Anyhow, I feel like blogging again. However, I cannot find a quiet moment to do it. This post has taken 3 interruptions already and I think I am going to hurt someone.

Just changes my internet provider and TV provider to BELL. I was with Rogers and was entertaining evil thoughts that I cannot reveal here so I thought it better to just change. But now I have a learning curve that I simply don't have time to deal with. IT TOOK ME 35 MINUTES TO PROGRAM MY REMOTE....GODDAM IT!!!! Why does this stuff need to be so comlicated? On ---Off, Volume, Channels, whats so damn hard?

Got to get back to my TV so that I can teach the Mole how to do it when he gets home. The extra holes in the brick wall, the ugly satellite dish and the new remote control will likely push him right over the edge.