Honestly, I have no earthly idea how it's Thursday already. I swear, it was just yesterday that I posted my previous pissed off rant about Libby Lu. Thanks to those of you who took the solemn vow to boycott that crap--and in writing, no less.

This week has been meetings and meetings and work and then some more meetings. I swear, I've had--at the most--2 hours at my desk each day. As a result, my "To Do" list keeps growing, and I don't have time to actually DO any of it. On the bright side, my team is functioning much more healthily than it did before the recent, sudden departure of one of our coworkers who, now that she's gone, I am realizing was a very ill fit for our dynamic in the first place. I'm not going to delve into it, but I will say that I have learned an immense amount from this whole experience. It may have been painful, but our team is stronger, and I'm a more confident Team Leader due to the lessons her dysfunction has taught me.

The past couple of weeks has been a real freakin' challenge at home, as well. The Geej has been going through (what I hope has been) a phase that has managed to push every single button I knew I had (and a few I didn't). Oh my GOD people. The whining. The arguing with me. The back talking. The crying for NO reason whatsoever. The waking me up 2 to 3 times a night. The utter hard-headedness. Every night, after I put her to bed, I would just collapse--mentally and physically and emotionally exhausted by what this little creature was asking of me. Being a good mommy at times like this is akin to no other challenge I can think of. It just fucking tweaks me out. I have no "relief pitcher" because I am single. I don't get to say, "Honey, I'm about to lose it. Please take over for me." It's just me, and I have to bite the bullet and push on through and try like HELL not to lose it. Sometimes I'm successful. A lot of times, I'm not. Luckily, however, after a couple of trying weeks, culminating in this past weekend when I thought I might go completely insane with frustration with this little she-devil who'd inhabited my beautiful daughter's body, she turned a corner on Tuesday. Since then, she's been a near-perfect angel. It's been so awesome and fun, and I've been using all of it as the opportunity to give her shitloads of positive reinforcement. Hopefully, this detente will last.

What else...

Oh, I'm pretty sure I'm slowly falling in love with the Geej's new classroom pet: Hunka Munka, the rat. Believe me: I'm the last person I thought would ever have rat-lover tendencies, but she's just so damn CUTE! And friendly. And gentle. She actually has a personality. She's not shy and schizo like a hamster. She's more chill. If I could only get over that nasty-ass rat tail of hers...

Also, no I didn't do the ACL fest. Not even a little bit. I've decided I'm not a big outdoor festival type of person anymore. Crowds--although fun for the sheer people-watching aspect--just piss me off. Especially crowds filled with wannabe hipsters and/or drunkish teens milling around an enclosed space underneath a blistering sun. No thank you. I am a music FREAK. But when I go see an artist I like or am curious about, I want to actually SEE them and HEAR them. I want them to do an actual show-length set--not an abbreviated festival-length mini-set. Yes, I'm an old crank. Where's my damn Geritol?!

The best thing about ACL fest, in my opinion, are the pre- and aftershows at venues around town. That's where I'd rather see my music. For instance, I went to the Yo La Tengo aftershow on Monday at The Parish. Even though it was sold out, it didn't feel crowded. And I actually got to see the faces of the band, and hear every word, breath, and note of Ira's self-indulgent 20 minute guitar solos. Yeah...it kind of sucked, but at least it sucked on my own terms, it was air-conditioned, and I got to pee in an actual restroom.

Lastly, I think this week's episode of VH-1's Rock of Love may have been some of the finest television ever broadcast. Hey, anytime I can watch a trashy stripper from Ohio go OFF on a certified psycho bitch from Texas in front of both sets of their parents, all in order to win the affection of a wig-wearing, botoxed, dumb-as-a-bag-of-hair lead singer of a late 80s poseur hair band, I'm a happy fucking camper.

That's it for now. I'm gonna post more over the next couple of days. I'm coming up for air. Thanks for hanging in there with me.