I'm Emigh. No, you can't pronounce it. Yes, I know it's odd.
But still- I'm Emigh. I'm never going to grow up. I'm always going to cover for my brothers. And I'm rarely going to make complete sense.
Nice to meet you.
My daughters are 11 and 5. They're awesome. The oldest, Tay, is officially a pre-teen drama queen. Her life and all its trials and tribulations are of the utmost importance. No, really, just ask her. She is anti-girly (she says) in a very "cover mom's house in glitter" sort of way. Don't worry, I don't get it either. The small one, Taryn, is a hellion. She's adorable and she knows it. She uses it to trick unsuspecting people into giving in to her will. She's actually quite good at it.
I work at a shelter. A people shelter, not an animal shelter. I do... you know, stuff. Little bit of this, little bit of that. Whatever needs doing, really. *free advice- don't ever accept a job with "assistant" in the title or "other duties as assigned" in the description. Just sayin.* Sometimes I'm a receptionist, sometimes I'm a bouncer, sometimes I'm Santa's helper... I'm very versatile. The job is interesting and provides me with tales of wonder, woe, and outright WTFness. We'll get to that later.
I have a husband. His name is Chris. Eventually he will find out about this blog and probably read it, so I will say only nice things about him. Like, I love how one time he put his shoes away by himself (even though he had a snotty look on his face when he did it). And how he puts up with my shit (even though I think he only does it because it's easier than actually telling me I'm being crazy and/or collecting crazy people). Also, he's a pretty good husband (even though I try not to say that too often- he gets all big-headed). And really, all of that just makes him no fun to write about.
I have been told numerous times to write about my life. And I take direction well, so there you have it. This is an exceedingly boring post. I'm aware of that. No gimmicks, no cliffhangers, no fun at all. But it's an intro. That's all it is. It's me saying "Hi. I'm me." and expounding upon that. Really, if I have to explain the purposes of an intro to you, I'd prefer you not follow this blog anyway. I can promise you, however, that future blogs will be full of fun. Or at least full of things that make you laugh at me. I have a ridiculous life. The things that occur on a day to day basis in my life are really only acceptable as plot-lines in sitcoms. In an effort to prove to you that you will, at some future point, be entertained by my adventures, I will give you some information:
*I once fractured my elbow playing with my daughter's toys then had to show up at a board meeting bruised and bloody. I refused to see a doctor because I felt it would be "silly" to explain how I hurt myself. Unlike walking around with broken parts, which makes complete sense.
*I have brothers who are all equal parts defenders, friends, and royal pains in the ass. Some day I will reminisce about the time one of them got drunk and decided to catch a horse. Or the time another one of them dressed up as Gumby and had his friends shoot firework rockets at him.
*My kids are evil geniuses. Have I mentioned that? They are.
*I am a lightning rod for weird people, strange occurrences, and horrifically bad luck. In the past 10 days- literally the 10 days leading up to the creation of this blog- the following things have happened:
Day One- After being up for nearly 48 hours, I then got to spend all night in the ER with Tay.
Day Two- Determined Chris' insurance won't pick us up because they are complete morons
Day Three- Tay got sick at school and the car died.
Day Four- Tay gets the flu and is out of school for the rest of the week. The hospital called. $1200 for that uninsured ER visit. The garage called. $800 for the water pump.
Day Five- Broke the washing machine. And the shower.
Day Six- Got a letter from the IRS claiming I owe them $1500.
Day Seven- Chris gets the flu. Not the regular flu- the MANflu. And Tay gets a double ear infection.
Day Eight- My coworker's house burned down. I am covering her job and mine. I suck at both.
Day Nine- Garage calls again. That $800 repair needs to be followed up with another $600 repair.
Day Ten- Someone tried to steal the car I'm borrowing from my mom while ours is in the shop. Police reports, all that fun stuff.
Somewhere in there my ex-husband moved from wherever he is living and into his car. Which he has parked in front of my house. As part of a cosmic joke being played on me. Because I am engaged in a lifelong battle of wills against the universe at large. Yes. So far I am losing. A lot. But have no fear- I'm just a late starter.
Or maybe a slow learner.
Either way, fun for you to read about.
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