All you can eat DVD buffet and dried cereal in bowls on the couch.
Do not judge me. I am superfuckingmom most days.
Mama bathes and throws on pajamas at three pm and we do not leave this hot house.
We do not do a thing except count down the hours
till Joe shouts through the metal mail slot.
It is always like this on Tuesdays.
I play magna doodle flipping drawfest 2009 with Blaise
until I cannot even draw one more requested kitty.
I slobber on my cheek as I flip in and out of consciousness.
I run my tongue across my slick freshly cleaned teeth.
Oh God why do I always book 8am dental appointments and think it a good idea?
I am tired.
I had slow moving dreams that I kept waking from as Blaise slapped me repeatedly in the face shouting no mummy no mummy DRAW!
I say yes all the time.
I worry a bit more than necessary.
I fear that I live in an alternative universe where John Hughes film quotes fall from my mouth like broken teeth
as the world punches me
and shouts at me
like an insolent child
Grab the ring.
Write it all down and when did I start to beat myself up?
When did I gain this thirst for everything?
Like I have to cram it all in at once.
Like everyday is the day you have to make your own.
Oh- when I realized that it was.
I just need a good nights sleep.
Like fatigue can make you an unreliable narrator of yr own life you know.