Attention Deficit Hyperactive DonglePoncho

Here are some subjects I currently on my mind:

The perils of geo-tagging instagramers on local it a boon to rural economies?
The problem with tourist-dependent economies in rural communities.
Paul Manafort, how much money goes to the legal team?
Biden, what would make me desperate enough to support?
(More on that on Twitter)
Should I stop writing so I can help Anson convert fractions into decimals for his homework?
What should I pack for my trip to Austin this weekend?
Am I cool enough to go to Austin this weekend?
My phone is about to die.
Should I go get a dongle or keep writing?
Was my latest tweet on the Utah Legislative session too caustic?
What is the formula for too caustic?
My child who keeps asking me when her friend will be done with piano lessons so they can play together is sort of driving me crazy because I DON'T KNOW and I am trying to write this very important blogpost.
Why did Anson give his friend my phone number? Now I get seven texts a day from him about Fortnite and I would ask him to stop texting but I sorta don't have it in me?
Even on my birthday when I was feeling "melancholy" I got at least four solid texts about Fortnite from this kid. And for some reason, getting those texts from a 10 year old boy meant for Anson on my birthday made me feel pathetic in a way I've never experienced before.
CK won't let the kids use his phone EVER and my phone is like the communal portal for desperate, bored or socially active children.
When I touch CK's phone it doesn't fee like someone dipped it in glue and rolled it around in a sandbox like mine does all the time.
I swear an alarm sounds and an electric shock is activated if flesh younger than ten years of age touches CK's phone. And that is what I call mobile device privilege.
I have a password on my phone but my kids have all figured it out and that's the problem with parental passwords, I am too lazy to protect them.
CK just brought me a dongle. So at least he's using his privilege to help others less fortunate.
Now I'm blocking Anson's friend because he actually got feisty with me when I told him Anson can't play Fortnite tonight (because I have to help him convert fractions into decimals). I don't need a power struggle on my own phone with my son's friend. Good gravy.
Now I feel a fresh new pathetic.
It's March 14th and it's very, very cold outside.
Is it unnaturally cold outside or is it that March phenomena wherein you think it should be warmer than it is and that's what makes it seem extra cold?
The haircut I have right now is not a good look for my face.
But it was worth a try. And it's ok.
Tonight Anson and I will read the chapter in Bridge to Terebitha where (SPOILER) Leslie dies and I do feel a little pit in my stomach about it. Anson is going to break down. But then again, so did I when I read it for the first time in fourth grade. CK said he did too. That break down experience made Bridge to Terebithia number one in my heart for my whole life. I didn't know that words could walk you through an experience with such skill that you felt it in your stomach and it stayed with you for years. So I think, Anson is about to experience something huge and I am feeling responsible but I am trying to keep it in context.
Parenting! What an exhaustive thing. I am going to need that break this weekend in Austin (whether I am cool enough or not).
Should I take a poncho?
When I started this blogpost there were two kids at my house and now there is six and we're still waiting for that friend who is seemingly NEVER GOING TO GET OUT OF PIANO LESSONS.
This dongle is having connection issues and continues to make my phone and my lap top BEEP and NOTIFY me on repeat.


My lawyer friend says Paul Manafort is in it at this point for 3 million. That seems cheap. In a global gangster sort of way, I mean.
Suddenly I want a hot chicken sandwich. Maybe I can get one in Austin.

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