My Disheveled Life

D'sheveled.  Makes it seem French.  Like for all people know, in French it means D'sheveled: being in a state of glamour and wealth, a socialite.  In plain English it means: HOT MESS.  I used to have it together.  I mean like really together.  I knew when I had appointments that were 6 months out.  I knew my husbands social security number by heart, clipped coupons and knew where I stashed them, and could recite the address of everyone I knew.  Then, I gave birth.  Just like that, my memory (along with my nice boobs, patience, energy, ability to multi-task) went down the proverbial drain.  Gone, never to be seen again.  Now if you don't have time to read this because you have it all together, I won't take offense.  I mean, I probably won't call you my friend, but you won't know, because you didn't read this anyways.  For the rest of you, you know who you are, the ones sitting on the computer with the following windows opened: Pinterest, Facebook, People,

That's right, a Taylor Swift reference.  I wouldn't be cool if I couldn't find some way to work pop culture into my blog.  Like Taylor Swift's ex, I am never ever ever, getting back together with my shit.  In fact, we were never actually together.  We went on a few dates.  Made plans.  Talked about our future together.  But alas, it never worked out.  If you have your shit together, don't waste time reading this.  It's not going to enhance your life one bit.  But, if you are like me, have at it ladies.  And man.  I heard once, thru the grapevine, that there was a man that read this blog so I will include him too. Take a stroll down memory lane with me.  All the way back to say.....this morning.  Can you remember that far back?  Take a minute and gather your mess of thoughts.  Your alarm went off and you hit snooze.  Like 5 times, am I right?  Now you are screwed for the rest of the morning.  You got in the shower 25 minutes late.   You hate all of your clothes