Good Mollie!

I just remembered why I like cocktails. Drinking is fun! I like fun. Part of my problem is that I seem to labor under the impression that I am entitled to be having fun all of the time. BUT, as with all things, the chickens have come home to roost. Cluck, cluck. Hey, I just said an "uck" word that didn't start with "f"! Time to tidy up the act, dry out the affected organs and get ready to take on all comers. And NO that was not a reference to my obsession with Gilberto, our local sanitation engineer. As I've said before, as much as I like drinkin', I also like not drinkin'. My husband sums me up in a nutshell by stating, "With Mollie, there's the gas and there's the brake.....there is no in between". No cruise control, I guess. And he's right. I'm missing the "middle-ground" chip. It's on or it's off. I do not understand the meaning of moderation. Well, I understand the concept. I'm just not capable of pulling it off. And that goes for anything, good or bad. Hey, check out my obsessive exercise habits! That's healthy, right? Anyway, right now the horrible behavior is off. I'm kinda sick of my liver hurting. I think I've even heard it sobbing and hatching plans to run off to somewhere safe when it thinks no one is listening. You're safe now, little liver. Mommy's here. I don't know who that horrible woman was that was being so mean to you and subjecting you to sweat-shop like conditions but she's gone now. At least until the weekend.