Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It has been 40 days since my last confessional.
Well, actually, after seven tries, I was finally able to get into this site. Not because there was a weird cryptic, governmental bug crashing the system/site but because I forgot my Username and Password.
Truth be told, I'm guessing I'm in the dumping useless shit/portion of my life.
Hmmm.... I have now equated my inability to remember useless passwords and numbers with my alarm system falability. I go into a full-ass panic when I'm faced with turning the home alarm off when exiting the building. I ask my 10-year-old to take care of such matters since I have failed for five consecutive years in a row to register the stupid fucker with the police station. I really don't need another fine added to the growing black lists I exclusively belong to.
Honestly, I have concentrated so much time, tears, energy and frustration to calligraphy as of late, I have had absolutely nothing left in the tank. Thankfully, school is finally out and my Jan Brady volunteering is on hiatus.
My right hand, a.k.a "the money maker and shaker," is failing me from unrealistic "It's Calligraphy, Bitch" moments.
AGAIN! I'm here to tell you, there is a calligraphy emergency on every corner and I have had to call 911 on every situation because, DUDE! this shit is a first world problem. For reals.
or as I like to say every morning to Rich,"these weddings are killing me Smalls!"
(Seriously joking and cussing aside,) I asked Rich to tell a client I had a stroke so I didn't have to meet their unrealistic demands.
but he didn't.
and I didn't bag 'em.
so, I stayed up for 22 hours straight, went to carpool, dance classes, FUCKING RECITALs!!!PLURAL!!!
Hence the weird ass hair in the last picture and bags from hell. After vodka chasers/shots, I did laundry, cooked dinner, mainlined Mucinex-D, worked for my husband, didn't pay the bills, ate a shit-ton of fried shit just to stay awake, watched a shit-ton of really bad Lifetime Romance shows while putting useless info on a card in guilded gold ink.
Did an algorithms on how much sleep you can really live on just so one can drive their kids to carpool on the other side of town while not crashing their car into the nearest Starbucks for their crack habit forming Carmel Crunch Frap followed by a mainline push of your heart's desire from the mean, bad streets, but yet, pleasing all in your lifeline.
Guess what!?!? You can't please anyone when you are me. Or to be fair, anyone like me.
You over promise and under deliver.
Bullshit you really don't want on your Epitaph.
Since we last met, THIS happened.
My oldest is becoming something more than me. She's the kid on the right just in case you are confused.
This is her last day of school pic.
Say it with me, WTF?
Then there is Boo-Boo Kitty....
I'm just waiting for her to yell, "No, Fuck you! Mom!"
Something you would hear from Breakfast Club, am I right?
Mainly because I can't imagine this phrase EVER being uttered from her beautiful soul.
Now, the other one?
I'm waiting patiently for this situation.
Biding my time.
Because she is my child and is way more like me than she would like to admit.
or me for that matter.
BUT! I love her and wouldn't have her any other way.
She is way more adjusted and all-around more put together than I ever happened to try to fake at her age.
Yet, she doesn't feel it.
If you haven't guessed, I feel like I'm failing at this parenting shit.
I want to go back to making sure their matted hair was brushed, Dance Parties with Glitter and feather boas and SpongeBob Square Pants on 24/7.
All of this moves way too fast.
and I SWEAR! I didn't blink!