the internal rage that I feel this morning as my daughter screams at me "I am!" after I tell her for the 8th time, to come downstairs and get ready for school is so palpable, I had to resist the very real and almost tangible urge to fling all the dirty plastic bowls across the kitchen. I imagined myself screaming, and maybe it was internal but I hate my life, my kids piss me off and I want a fucking divorce so I can just get the hell out of here.
I feel like I’m even running out of sad faces, though the happy ones disappeared years ago. And the paradox of it all is while I’m writing this, I asked my daughter how far along she was in getting dressed and she told me and then said "my shoes are right here"> I said "You need to get a pair of socks because you can’t wear shoes without socks"> Then she started to laugh and that made me feel a little bit better.
If I left, I would miss their laughter and the ability to make them laugh but I wouldn’t miss everything else, the fighting, the lazy people, and the teenager said "I’ll be happy when I move out because I won’t have to take out recycle anymore.