Who are you people and why are you calling me Mommy?

So, the doctor says I have gastritis, or a pre-ulcer condition. Oh, yippee. Excuse me? You want to put your finger where? I hope you're taking me out to dinner afterwards.

The most relaxing part of my day yesterday was when the "student" was drawing my blood. The real nurse watched my kids. This is a sad state of affairs.

Moments earlier, I'd stopped in the cafe at the doctor's office, sucking down a refreshing diet coke while my wee beasts screamed at the top of their lungs. People were staring. Why doesn't she do something about those kids? Normally, I'm Nazi Lady, the mean mommy. Today, I have a burning hole in my gut and my patience, never plentiful on a good day, has worn thin.

Wee Beast #1 is mad because I bought a blueberry muffin when she wanted another treat and Wee Beast #2 is wailing because he's tired and being a general poop. My father in law, bless his black heart, says I'm letting the inmates run the asylum.

Well, if that's the case, I have one question:

Where in the hell is my padded room?

I HAVE THE GUN, SOMEONE PULL THE TRIGGER

Here I sit, on a bitterly cold morning, the remnants of snow days past sitting outside my window. The holiday season is here, the house is toasty, merriment abounds.

Bull.

Why you ask? Oh, I'll tell you.

One word: Synopsis

Or rather, Mother Bitching Effing Synopsis.

When I finished my first manuscript, I thought, "Hey, I did it! The hard part is over!"

Not so much.

First, there was the revisions. A new brand of hell designed specifically for me. WTF? So, I pulled my hair for a few hours and went to work. Ha, you bastard! I have conquered thee! After I commenced my much deserved happy dance, I sat down at my computer and thought, "Now it's time for the query letter and synopsis." This should be the easy part, right?

I repeat: Not so much.

For the last two days I have labored at my computer, with which I have a love/hate relationship as it is the medium for the crapola that flows out of my brain. Charlotte Dillon, here I come. I have printed about 50 pages of "how tos" for this new and thoroughly daunting new task. I have created 10 pages of dog crap masquarading as a synopsis.

How can this be so difficult?

I wrote a 380 page manuscript for crying out loud. How hard can it really be to type out 2 little pages? Perhaps it is because this is what will get my proverbial foot in the door. If I ass out on the synopsis, I can kiss my manuscript goodbye. Well, that's probably a little melodramatic, but hey, I'm desperate.

So, in closing, please, please, please someone put me out of my misery.