Monday, April 19th 2010
From the Floor…

This morning on the way to preschool, I swerved a little to avoid driving over a dead skunk. I murmured, “Sorry, buddy. I kinda know how you feel. It’s that kind of day.” I don’t often talk to dead animals I pass on the street. But today is different.

A while back I got a catalog in the mail from some company selling expensive, wrinkled looking, flimsy women’s clothing – probably marketed at a group younger than I am. Although I don’t believe in ironing either, and that’s probably how they got my name.

The models were upset looking. And sprawled across entry way rugs and living room floors – as if they were GOING to go somewhere in their perfectly chic wrinkled, flimsy clothing, and then just fell down all sad and energy-less and instead they just laid there until someone came along and took their photo.


A bizarre way to try to make clothes look good. (They didn’t.)

But memorable. And sadly, I GET IT. That day – the day the catalog came in the mail? I laughed. But today?

If my clothes were flimsy, I could just sprawl and wait for a photographer to walk in.

I’m totally feeling the over the top, let’s just lay on the floor and be pathetic vibe though.

There’s nothing wrong. I mean, sure, that whole incident could really just be deleted, Divine Style, and that would be good. By the way, God NEVER does that for me. If He does for you, don’t tell me. Not today. Wait til I’m not sprawled in an entryway like roadkill.

Partly, it’s the leftover Worst Mom Ever feelings, which I”m not quite ready to give up yet. They need to be stored up, savored in an awful, lasting way so that I do not let myself off too easily for something so horrendous.  They need to be serenaded with playlist of Kristofferson,  Cash, and Lovett and washed down with a Diet Coke on the rocks.

I am a hard livin’ woman.


This is obnoxious. I know that. And I’m almost done. I will not subject you to more of this. I’m just not there yet. So. Tomorrow or the next day I’ll cheer up and tell you all about the possible pitfalls of buying sterling silver collar stays and having them thoughtfully, lovingly engraved with dirty messages. Oh! Funny. If you put it that way, it’s SO predictable and I SO should have known all the things that could go wrong and somehow I… didn’t.  Yes. Well. Roadkill is hardly known for its ability to recognize oncoming conflicts.


1 Comment on “From the Floor…”


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