thought arrive like butterflies
Yes, I did just quote Evenflow for the title of this post. For a few seconds I felt 13.
Ever since my last post I've been imagining my grandmother's “I told you so” sessions at the funeral of my boyfriend if he were to be tragically cut down in a drive by shooting in E. Liberty/Garfield/whereever black people live. I, of course, would faint several times in between throwing myself onto the coffin while wearing a black suit, one of those pillbox hats with the little veil and clutching a white hanky. Perhaps Jimmy Cliff could stop by to sing “Many Rivers to Cross.”
Wow. I have gotten absolutely nothing done yet today. My dad stopped by so that I could type a letter for him to his insurance company. They made some bullshit charges to him so now he's trying to get them to take it back. That took longer than I anticipated and afterward I realized that the baby was probably starving since I was. We had one of the strangest lunches ever. I had a fancy salad that was really just an absurd combination of low POINTS foods while the baby had a Healthy Choice hot dog, some strawberries and some tapioca pudding. Whatever. All of the food is still sitting out in the kitchen turning sour and my laundry from last night is sitting in the washer turning moldy. I am a shitty housewife. I should get a job. later.
Alright. I really need to go do something.
flingin flangin.
