I was thinking this morning about all the MOM blogs out there and how we’re all so bored and starved for attention, more attention than the 30 seconds of excitement when the WIC guy comes to the door and how just like every other blog mine is. AND THEN I REALIZED THAT NOT EVERYONE HAS A HALEY.
Haley is 19 now and lives in Newport, half an hour from my house. I thought this might not be far enough away but her car is constantly broken so she never comes here.
However, I enjoy calling her at various times throughout the day so she can say things like this:
I only have two bras and I can’t find either one! I can’t go work at the daycare with my boobs hanging out.
Someone hit my car and the tire fell off.
It’s 5 degrees and we still have no heat or hot water.
There’s Jesus wallpaper in my closet and I’m leaving it there because I HAVE A JESUS CLOSET!
I have to get my car fixed so you drive here, drive my car to the shop down there, come back to drive me to work, come back to pick me up and then go get my car and bring it here.
There’s a man named JRO living under my bed.
If I can’t pay my fine and they suspend my license and then fine me double, that’s okay.
I have one shoe.
I have one pair of pants (I’ve bought her at least 5 this year).
My hair is BLUE, PINK, BLACK, BLONDE, back to it’s natural color.
I called every oral surgeon and no one answered,
There are feral cats in the basement.
There’s a ghost in my room named Sister who sits in the corner and cries.
She was shaking the bed.
I have a DOG, HEDGEHOG, KITTEN, CHINCHILLAS, GUINEA PIGS, PIG, COW, MOOSE, BEDBUGS.
The cat peed on MY DIRTY LAUNDRY, CLEAN LAUNDRY, MIDDLE OF MY BED.
I am losing my hair, my feet go numb, my jaw in infected, I have panic attacks, I can’t breathe.
I want to go to this college, that college, this one over here, I’m going to live on the street now.
And the most frequent text: I’m done.
Done what? I’m not sure because she doesn’t seem to be done doing anything. I do hope one day she uses this brilliance to make something of herself. Maybe she should be the one blogging because her life is so much more interesting than mine. If only she hadn’t broken her laptop, phone, Ipod, laptop, phone, phone, Ipod.