But when they left and I had a bunch of time to myself to sober up before my kiddies came back I had a myriad of harsh realities unfold in front of me...and it's not even PMS week:
1. Mr. DJ? He's an ass...I've not heard from him in a week and now I feel played...I don't like to feel played...and with no other prospects in my near future I have decided that I'm officially done with this dating shyt. I know I've said it before, but this time I mean it. Niggas ain't shit- I'm finished.
2. My mom is sick and having surgery on Friday...did she tell me about it? No! I had to find out from someone else. And she's not taking my calls. I don't know what her deal is but seriously- grow up!
3. I still have not secured summer plans for my girls, and whatever I come up with now will absolutely cost me an arm and a leg..and maybe an ear or two.
4. My wack-ass LG phone fell out of my pocket and now won't power on...piece of shit phone! Now I gotta go to the store and hope they can retrieve my information. If I don't call any of you it's because I lost your number...
5. I hate my breasts, and I think they will be what will finally get me over my doctor phobia, because I need a reduction/lift ASAP...damn babies...
6. I've gained weight and it's not cute!
7. I still have not had my panel for my MFA degree, and I'm starting to think that perhaps my professors have found such major flaws in my work that they can't possibly allow me to graduate in August.
8. Freelance work has not taken off the way I thought it would; I'm almost at the point where I may have to reconsider this whole writing thing...
From now on, I think I will stick with my Coronas and perhaps not drink whiskey as if I'm still 19, chugging Jack Daniels in my dorm room like there's no tomorrow.
Just a thought...
*smooches...in the harsh light of day*
And outside your window you can see the circus it's lurching
with rings of smoke
You laugh halfheartedly at the punchline
Not realizing they've made you the joke
And inside you're heart a war is raging
A region still untamed
The worst fear I can imagine is for the mystery to be named