PLG

Okay, so there had to be a post about this abbreviation, which has been introduced to me via my friend and neighbor, Sarah. I think it officially stands for "poor little guy" or "poor little girl," but it's typically used to describe someone or something that is either very pathetic or so adorable that you have to make a little face about it. If Sarah would ever teach me how to do hyperlinks on my blog, I could link to hers for appropriate examples of PLG in print.

I digress, because tonight, I wish to use the favored term to describe myself. That's right, and I'm using it in the first sense (very pathetic). It's 9:12 p.m., and I'm finally getting around to making some dinner for myself . . . and it's macaroni and cheese. This is because I've been unable to make it to the grocery store yet this week, so choices are limited. I only wonder what Jason fed himself earlier, while I was dashing madly around Target buying exciting things like a dustbuster, wart-freezing kits, Purell, and shampoo.

I've been up since 6:00 sharp, and I had to get up with Jemma two times last night instead of just the usual one. Also, Annie is being horrible. No way to sugarcoat it; she's going through some funk and I just can't take it anymore. I've used all my coping methods (ignoring, time-outs, taking away favored items, diversions both indoors and out, extra-focused one-on-one time to prevent neediness) and still: almost constant, daily, unrelenting whining, disobeying, and tantruming.

Also, I'm hot. Also, my hair is frizzy and ugly today. Also, I'm going to head downstairs and wallow in my self-pity while I eat my mac & cheese. PLG me.