Good Morning, Miss Ogre.

Why is it that as you get older you get uglier and uglier in the morning? I seriously scared myself this morning when I looked in the mirror right after getting out of bed. Then I happened to yawn and my breath could have wilted a flower.
It's like I turn into a ogre in the middle of the night, and then after I shower and get my makeup on and my hair dried I turn back into me. It's making the thought of camping more and more impossible, especially tent camping. I think the biggest thing is my left eyebrow, which I over-plucked a few years back (OK, OK, I plucked the entire second half off), and I can't let it grow back because it grows all funky and grandpa like, so I keep it plucked and have to draw it in every morning. But until I can get my hands on that essential little pencil I just look really weird, like I am going through chemo.
Also, I am hoping that by writing this dumb crap my mojo will be back in town at about the same time Joey is. I have this strange hunch that writing is secretly connected to my sex drive. We'll see.
Some other stuff going on in my head:
Sometimes, against all better judgment, I want to have another baby. The other day I had decided that this is what I wanted and so I spent all day dreaming of a third, probably a girl, and thinking of names and picturing meadow scenes with all three of my children frolicking in the muted sunset light.
Of course, when I let Joey in on my plans we almost got divorced, but we worked through it.
Then today I am thinking about wanting a job that makes a lot of money and has some sort of title that would make me feel good every time I told anyone what I do.
And of course, those two little things (a baby and a job) don't really go together. In fact, in my life, from past experience, they sort of create an atomic bomb in my life: BOOM!
Anyway, just crap in my head.