It just keeps getting gloomier. I kind of feel like Eeyore.

Monday night was Ladies' Night and Bub was so kind to offer to watch the kids that I, of course, took him up on it. I don't think I'll do that very often. I was sleepy and logey on the drive to take the kids to him - that should've been a major sign that I was too tired to stay out late. Oh, but nooooooo. I went and lost a little money. I only played a little simply because lately money is a bit tighter than it used to be. The bills are still paid and the kids are amply fed, but I'm trying not to blow gigantic amounts of my montly gambling allowance at once. Just in case.

Just in case last week happens again. "What happened last week, Diva?" you ask? Ohhhh, like parking your car on Monday night after Ladies' Night and not driving it again until the next Friday, except oh, you can't drive it on Friday like you want because the stupidmotherfucking battery has gone dead for some inexplicable reason and even after your husband puts it on the charger it won't hold a charge and great, now you're going to have to pull $50 out of your ass to buy a new battery. Or like checking the mailbox and finding an overdraft notice and wondering just how in the hell you could be overdrawn because you know there hasn't been more than $7 in the checking account in over a week and you haven't written a single check, but then you look at the notice and discover that you forgot to write down the stupidmotherfucking insurance debit that has come out of your account every month on the 11th for the last two years, but yep, you forgot it, you moron, and now your account is not only $121.72 overdrawn, but they slapped that good ol' $17.43 overdraft fee on there, too. Yeah.

So understandably I'm being cautious with money.

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The other night in bed Mr. Diva and I were discussing the not-cataclysmic-yet-not-altogether-pleasant happenings of last week and we were all snuggled up, chatting about it and how we'd managed, but only because my mother is a saint and how we're so fortunate. Then it hit me and I slapped his chest which made him holler and I said, "Ohmygosh, July 3rd's coming up!! We need to buy more insurance, have the kids wrapped in bubble wrap and you're calling in sick! We. Are. Not. Ready!"

July 3rd for us is pretty much like a gazillion bad days all rolled into one 24 hour period of hell. Seriously. It all started in 2003 when Mr. Diva got hit by a car while on his motorcycle. And the bike wreck was the icing on the cake to the previous week when Kady spiked a 105 temp and we discovered she had Roseola AND the attic fan shorted out and the attic caught on fire. Yeah. And so we thought that the bike wreck on July 3rd was just the third thing on that week's Bad Things Come In Three's theme.

Oh, but no.

July 3rd, 2004, brought tornadoes that rolled trailer houses just a mile or so down the road and caused us to be without power for about 48 hours. Certainly, it was no bike wreck and wasn't incredibly bad, but it wasn't so much fun either.

Last year, on July 3rd I discovered this. I'd post a picture of it, but Blogger is being a royal bitch right now and I can't upload anything. So clicky the linky.

So naturally I'm a bit leary of the 3rd altogether. You would be, too. I keep trying to think of anything that might go wrong and then I'm slowly, one-by-one eliminating anything that could possibly bring harm to my family or myself. I've gotten rid of all beds, sharp knives, ceiling fans, animals, pillows, tight clothing, and electrical appliances so hopefully we'll be safe. Yes, I realize that I still have the computer. I'll risk it. Although.....it was been acting a bit screwy today.....either I just need to defrag the thing or it's getting ready to blow up and kill me. Or at least maim me.

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A friend just called and offered me two invitations for tonight to the VIP invitation-only party prior to the public opening of the new High Winds Casino. I had just told Tater that we weren't going to come in to Mom's to help with some yardwork because this is Mr. Diva's first day off in 9 days and we were just going to chill out at home tonight, so I certainly couldn't ask her to watch the kids after telling her that because well, that would sound pretty bad - "We don't want to leave our house to do yardwork but we'll leave to gamble." I mean, she'd just told me this was their only night to do the yardwork, so I felt kinda bad anyway. So I called her and offered her the tickets - and they're going. *sigh* Sometimes it sucks to be nice. And it most of the time sucks being a good, submissive wife. What I really wanted to do was tell Mr. Diva that I was going to that party and he was watching the kids and that was that. I have friends who could get away with that. Instead I gave up the chance. See, he would've taken the ticket and gone in a heartbeat, leaving me here with the kids, and never looked back. But there's no way in heck I could've done that. *sigh* So much for the possibility of being on a commercial. *sigh* And winning an assload of money. *sigh*

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