Diva, reviewing our bill at restaurant: Oh, that’s not bad at all.
Me: It is if you’re poor.
Diva: We’re not poor, Mom. We’re like … low, low, low middle class.
Yesterday. 3:47pm. I made the following note on my iPhone:
Checking out at desk from son’s doctor appointment and I suddenly feel breathless. Im certain some sort of virus, likely the plague because I saw a woman who look like she had the plague, has just invaded my body.
Sure as shit, I woke up sick today.
Actually before I even went to bed I started feeling as if my cat had been toying with my tonsils and started this lame half cough. Then I woke up with the plague.
Now, Im lying here in a pseudo-benadryl like reality toying with the idea of creating a huge alliance of single mothers that will perform functions of the luxuries we provide to others during their illness but never have extended to us. Like making chicken noodle soup or a tuck in service. Single moms are a tough bunch so we dont need this pansy ass shit on the regular but we definitely could use some TLC when we’re sick. Being sick as a single Mom is the pits. Nobody cares that you’re dying of the plague. Theyre just like, “Where’s dinner?” or realize its the perfect time to neglect their chores because Mom is too sick to be taken seriously because you sound like a troll and cant hold your eyes open. (Thanks, Nyquil) Then, its double suckage because when you start feeling better you have to deal with all the extra bullshit nobody bothered to do because you were sick. It’s just not fair.
So Ive decided that when the cat finally actualizes her world domination plans and makes me the supreme leader of humans who provide food and defacation dispoal services, a branch of my power will be devoted to creating an alliance. We will boss kids around, dispense Lysol and chicken and dumpling soup and the world will be a better place because of it.