Hornblock?

I sometimes wander aimlessly around hobby stores, waiting for Spousehole and Boy to finish looking for God-knows-what (that stuff bores me to tears). Once I ran across an item called a “hornblock.” It's a model railroading part and it's actual use is of no consequence. I just liked the word and wondered if I could ever find a use for such a silly word.

Unfortunately, I've found it. I am suffering from it, in fact. My name is Bunny and I suffer from hornblock. Like writer's block, but much, much worse. Not an erotic thought in my head, not a sensual feeling in my body. It's bizarre and I hate it. Tried to masturbate, couldn't even get into it. Not turned on at all by my favorite erotic blogs. What the hell is up with that?

Maybe too many other things on my mind:

Boy's educational plans aren't working out as we'd hoped and I am devastated. I feel like his teachers and I have failed him. They say when you have a special-needs child, you have to accept the child you have. However, you can't completely do that until you've mourned the child you don't have. I thought I had mourned the “normal” child he will never be, but perhaps I don't have all of that out of my system yet. It's very difficult sometimes. He is academically “spot on” and has good receptive language skills, but can't handle a large class size, gets overwhelmed if too much is asked of him, has sensory issues, and, most important, has expressive language skills at only a 3-year-old level. (He's 6). Not long ago, my SIL told Husband that we “push the autism thing too much” and that from what she sees, Boy is not really autistic. Because as a child-free architect who sees Boy maybe six times a year, she would know far better than neurologists, psychiatrists, psychologists, and 5 years of special ed teachers and therapists. And his own parents, who deal with him day in and day out. Fuck her.

The Red Wings are through for the year (and is anything more humiliating than losing to a Disney movie team?) Then there's the marriage, but you don't want to hear all that. My baby sister having cancer (though hopefully she's okay after her surgery). The wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Poverty. Hunger. AIDS. Bad manicurists. Need I go on?

Maybe it's just the particular time of the month, if you know what I mean. I feel bloated and disgusting and have cramps that would kill a man. I should look into that drug to stop periods all together. Always said I'd never do the hormone thing again, but that just might be worth it.

Perhaps next week will be better. I'll get my shit together, solve all the world's problems, and bring sexy back to housewifery. SuperBunny to the rescue!!