The Month That Was

If we had champagne in the house this weekend, I would have proposed a toast.

A toast to bid an un-fond adieu to September, the month that sucked great big donkey butt. A toast to the month that was a complete cluster fuck. A toast to the month when I vacillated between eating nothing for days, and gorging for days and ended up ten pounds heavier for my troubles. A toast to the month when I gave up the gym, evening exercise, good judgment, trust, sleep, and oh yes...apparently, sex of any type what-so-ever.

So long, September! Don't let the door hit you in your giant, stinking ass on the way out.

Hello, October! Aren't you looking inviting.

October started out with a best friend who seems to be recovering better than I expected. Kids who are happy and un-grounded (and growing out hair). A husband who took a road trip with a friend, which I think is awesome. A spousal relationship which feels better and more open than we've had in years. And a marital bed which is heating the hell up.

Go libido. Go libido. It's your birthday.

Okay, there are no falling leaves or cool breezes. But 94 degrees and humid is okay too. And yes, I have to work my ass off for the first half of the month at my stupid food booths. But my mom's coming to help with the kids.

On October 16, my volunteer commitment to the school and the parents' board will be fulfilled for the year, my mother will be on a plane back home, a big check will be deposited, and the tickets for our Thanksgiving trip to New York will be bought and paid for.

I think I'll save my champagne toast for that night. And I'll drink it in a bubble bath surrounded by candles. And I'll never ever volunteer for anything ever again.

Except maybe a nooner. Because nothing says Happy Fall like a blow job in the afternoon. Am I right?