How Lovely Is The Life I Lead.

It's hilarious that I have to work all day and then go home and work all night. I love sitting here at my desk and contemplating my next move, my next call, my next dodge, my next word and then stressing my brain out to oblivion with all the chaos that comes my way. I never anticipated a sit-down job to be so fantastic. It really is all I could ever want. Sitting here practicing posture techniques, typing with out looking, or what different ways I can organize my desk. I have mastered the technique of guessing who is coming by the sound of their pitter-patter on the linoleum floor. Nine times out of ten I always guess right. I can tell by the length of their steps and the heaviness of their feet or the squeek their shoes make or don't make or the way they come down the stairs or how the upstairs door slams when they close it. It's actually a talent I have honed over the years of working here and I am considering including that talent on my resume. I listen to complaining literally ALL DAY from a wide array of people. Co-workers, sales partners, customers, buyers, dock employees, my computer fan from being over worked... all underpaid.

Then I get to go home. I have about 45 minutes of alone time that use to be spent cooking and tiding up a bit before members of my congregational family arrive. But now I have realized that those 45 minutes are truly the only real moments alone I have at home so I spend them instead on Sorority Life like a real woman should. Of course in between the moments it takes for my computer to download I am in the kitchen prepping for the spectacular dinner I am imagining in my head. After I am done whooping virtual ass, buying all the hottest virtual clothes virtual money can buy, and of course virtually pampering my virtual boyfriend that is if one of my virtual sorority slutty sisters hasn't stolen him, I drag my feet to my lovely kitchen and begin the task of dinner. YAY!

Thankfully, I am the type of mother that does NOT care what my kids will or will not eat. I never indulge in their pickyness because once you let them get away with it they will do it time and time again. I never got to choose what I ate and they are granted the same privileges. While I am on this subject I absolutely can't stand mothers that proclaim what their child will and won't eat and they bring their own snacks to the party because of it. Unless your kid has tried it they don't know if they like it or not! So quit with the dumb shit! There are starving children all over the damn world! Shit there are starving children here in San Jose that don't get a choice in what they can eat or won't eat. My kids eat what I cook, if they don't like they don't eat and until they can buy their own groceries that's how it is. I always tell them when they don't like what I cook that they are NOT at a restaurant and if they were I would be the manager, the president, the boss with the sauce and I would kick them out with out a refund just for complaining.

After we eat dinner together as a family, they have the opportunity to watch a movie, read a book, play a game, clean their room, draw or color, take a bath, and leave me be. While they are occupied with their tasks at hand the hubby gracefully plops himself in front of the computer to work while I tend the kitchen and the dishes and the draperies and the laundry and the sweeping and then I do them again! All the mean while I am in a whirlpool of self-loathing cursing every sock, toy, dish, chair, jacket that is out of place ruining what should be ME TIME!

Then following the round-up of all things scattered, I calmly ask Mordecai and Rigby to brush their teeth and hop into bed. I use to let them watch movies but that shit just keeps them up later so lately I have been playing this CD called Sleep Sounds we got at a hotel once. They hate it, I love it cause they are asleep in about 20 minutes when it would normally take them hours to crash. I don't know why I ever thought watching a movie to go to sleep is a good idea for kids that aren't even trying to go to sleep in the first place. I put the CD on and I close the doors to the hallway and the kitchen giving them peace and tranquility while I ever so gracefully plop myself in front of the TV hoping to catch something good on Netflix.

Concurrently, the wonderful, amorous man I call Baby Daddy is still in oblivion working on his pictures and I mentally debate with my mental self about interrupting his work and letting him know that I am going to watch a movie if he would like to partake in such activities. One hundred percent of the time I am successful at pulling him away from his rigorous assignments. I then patiently wait and watch as he shows me what he has accomplished so far while waiting for a professional critique. I inwardly beam with pride, joy, accomplishment, happiness when I see the marvelous work he does but I can't show too much pride or excitement or overdo my compliments otherwise he will think me fake. Like any artist he appreciates constructive valid criticism not the "I-think-every-single-little-thing-you-do-is-absolutely-fantastic-even-if-you-hate-it" type of banter I guess I can sometimes give. Whatever. It's how I feel. It's the reason why I don't get upset when he sits there hours at a time while I am sweating to the tunes of a dirty house because I know that whatever he is working on is going to be brilliant and I don't want to be the one to hold him back or make him feel like he can't be great because his nagging ass wife. If he wasn't so adept, I wouldn't be as supportive but then again would I even realize he wasn't skilled cause I am his wife and love him to pieces and everything he does?

We snuggle up in bed, sometimes with an ice cold one, sometimes with a snack, sometimes just each other. And these are the moments I can't wait for. The moments when it's back to us. The moment's when I get to lay down next to the man that's played the lead role in all of my dreams including my nightmares. Ignoring my never ending back pain and just basking in the infinite love I feel for him and my children at this very moment when I finally get to do what I want and not what I HAVE to do. I say a little prayer to God asking him to please pretty please slow down the axis of the earth around the sun and let me have extra moments of this tranquility.

And then BAM my phone rings and it's my Grandmother giving me her ritual wake up call that I quickly devalue by going back to sleep as soon as I hang up. Sometimes she calls me back at 6:30, most times she doesn't but that's okay because the devil himself disguised as my husband's cell phone alarm will now continuously ring for the next hour every five minutes marking the pinnacle of another fateful day of waiting till I reach those last few hours that make the rest of my wonderful day all worth it. Indeed the life I lead is lovely, can't wait to do it again tomorrow.

Ciao.

(ps. I really do love my life.)