Monday, January 2, 2012

Kids, wandering dogs, same same...

What the firetruck?! I'm sitting here with Bravo on the TV, sipping my unnecessary energy drink, and I'm watching Real Housewives (Beverly Hills). There is actually a job for a man at the hotel to go around the pool and spray Evian water on girls. What the hell did the rest of the male population do wrong to deserve jobs like lawyer, doctor, electrician, or scholar?

Anyhooters, Monday is almost over. I've managed to miss the first day of work of the year (thank God) and spent the day atoning for the sins of the last two weeks. No, I didn't spend the day in a confessional asking for some sort of forgiveness. I paid for the sins with sweat and pain. If my ass could talk today it would be screaming, "Bitch, if you had laid off the bubbly, crab dip, and holiday comfort foods you wouldn't be trotting your ass up a 6% incline and you'd be able to sit tomorrow without crying!"

Like a faithful believer that life is what you make it, I've managed to put aside the uncertainties of yesterday. One of the great things about passive exercise (treadmills and elliptical trainers) is that it gives you plenty of time to focus on what's going on in your head, at least until you step on the non-moving parts or let your foot drop off the end of the belt, in which case there is definitely an 'oh shit' moment where you panic and wake from the reverie and pay attention again. "Holy crap! Dammit... up the incline... 40 minutes to go."

Nevertheless, I was able to sort a few things out in my mind and have decided to move forward with life as I know it. Throwing in the towel and selling all of my belongings and my kids seemed a little drastic at the end of the day. Sure sure... I could have gotten a great price on the kids. Hell the older one makes her own money now, but I've been assured that kids are much like those dogs you see on the Today Show. No matter where I went they would have sniffed me out eventually. Someone would have found them wandering down the side of the road with their lives trailing behind them in poorly packed garbage bags and boxes with shitty tape jobs.

"Where are you two going?" someone would say, and my kids would answer... "We can smell hooker sweat and shame... our mom has to have come this way."

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