Update 1 of 2 This Week...

My life, as I wince at the possibility of saying this yet again, has been insane! Photos this, edit that… Errands and work and weddings and life… I’ve been photographing like crazy, yet haven’t gotten paid for a bit of it. Ugh- at some point this artistic hobby of mine will pay off, right?
This past weekend- well, let’s just say my work week will help me recover from it. I’m getting odd looks from random strangers when I am out in public today- THAT look. That look that says, what a poor thing… Should we do something? Should we interfere? Do we talk to her… Why are people looking at me like this? Because I am bruised. Both my arms from the biceps down are torn up with scrapes and decorated with deep purple and blue bruises. My legs, from mid thigh down are even more torn up with abrasions and the colorful arrangement of bruises says only one thing- beaten woman. And I’m not! Those that know me in real life know for a fact should my loving, devoted, sexy hunk of a husband were to raise a hand to me- I would club him like a baby seal with a 2x4 until my arms grew heavy.
This Labor Day Weekend- the end of a vacationless summer with my husband, he and I worked our asses off. On Saturday, we cut down a tree that was way bigger then it looked when it was standing up dead in the woods. Once it settled after chasing me down the trail when it received the fatal cut from the chainsaw- it’s sized doubled. Needless to say, we filled a flat-bed car hauler trailer with its timber, then had to clean the garage in order to put all that wood away. As if that wasn’t enough to fill both Saturday and Sunday, yesterday, since it was damn hot and muggy outside- we cleaned, moved furniture, sorted out the cabinet we lovingly called “Vegas” that was in the hallway. After that, after six garbage bags of shit from that cabinet that things went into and never came out of, we pulled a new bookcase from the storage hole known as the grainery; cleaned it, lugged it into the house, set it up and placed in it numerous cool things that remained after the great sorting!
This weekend’s blood, sweat, and tears has left me marked with bruises and a bit less full of blood from the scrapes. Hence the odd looks from John Q. F***head public. Speaking of those mindless bastards that have filled the roadways of Michigan today- to the four blonde bitches in the Impala that passed me and my ambulance on the right while on a highway on ramp- yes, I was in fact laughing my ass off when I saw you down the highway in a few miles- the ass end of your car ripped off and laying near the bridge abutment, while the front end of your car was equally shredded by the highway divider cables. To the in a hurry Rockford socialite/regretful housewife at Meijers- yes, my dear. I in fact called you a F***ing C*** in a very loud voice, enough to grab everyone’s attention after your heavy plastic tote smashed my fingers while I was trying to put that order separating gate down at our shared check lane. I am only sorry that all you did in response to my insult was only give me a dirty look. Tragically enough, I realized that you had no clue as to what I called you and had to hurry home to Google search my insult to better gain an understanding. Honestly- if I thought any of it would do any good at all- I would scream out “Get F***ing Bent, all of you Assholes!” to the general population.
There, venting out of the way. Stayed tuned for more pictures tomorrow!!!


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