To roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I —-
I bent down to tie my shoe and lost my balance. I grabbed for a branch to no avail and fell headlong into the fucking stream. Now I’m soaking wet, bruised, and so far from either path that even if I did find my way back I wouldn’t know which way to turn once I got there.
The delusions of control, the fuzzy feelings way deep down that let me rest peacefully each night are slowly eroding away. My life as a Rockwell painting is becoming a Dali. Or a Pollack. Maybe it’s the onset of spring, the final push toward the promise of summer. Patience is an ideal and my children live in the I want it now. They grow restless with anticipation, weary of the toils of an unusually long school year, and by restless I mean annoying.
They are at each other constantly. Yelling, hitting, pushing, fighting, arguing. Crying, whining, pouting, sulking. And by constantly I mean IT NEVER STOPS!!! Their behavior is bad.
It’s worse than bad. It’s reprehensible. Hell, I don’t even know what reprehensible really means but it sounds a lot worse than bad, so that’s what their behavior has been. REPREHENSIBLE!!
Or maybe they’re just tired. It could be that they just haven’t adjusted to the fact that the sun is still up when they are supposed to be going down for the night. I’m tired, too but I’m not afforded the luxury of that excuse. My lot is have to.
And so I will.
But I’m going to need a lot more motrin…..
And maybe Vodka!
