Last week I read an email that was a huge blow to my ego. It took me exactly a week to get over it. I suspected it would take two, however, my callus exterior is thicker than even I thought it was. This is unfortunate for many people who are in my life right now, or in my line of fire I should say. I have a lot to say and may be all over the board, bear with me. I was feeling so sorry for myself it was painful to even live with myself. Thank God I have two jobs to keep my mind busy. My double shift that I worked yesterday officially pulled me out of my unhealthy head and back into my even unhealthier head where I usually live. I got to know some of my co-workers better and discovered that I wasn't the only functioning alcoholic at work. One girl told me she on occasion goes home and drinks a bottle of wine after work. My first response, "Who doesn't?" My second, "Hi new best friend. (Til I find something wrong with you.)"
If there's one thing you should know about me, it's that I love books about people with crappy lives. I don't know why. I loved Angela's Ashes. Laughed until I cried at some points. Loved reading about the Lost Boys of Sudan. I'm not saying my heart doesn't go out to the peeps, I'm just saying, I like it. I put off reading The Road because I thought it'd be too much for me. Shit. I read it in a couple days. I loved it. It's basically about a man and his son who are in a living hell with no escape. Just like me, except I have two daughters and shoes. Here's what I love. Men who have sons and love this book because they picture themselves and their son as the characters. Give me a f-ing break. I'd last in Hell longer than any of these men who consider changing a light bulb, home improvement. I have a bigger set of balls than most if not all men I know. The way I know I'm smarter than these men is that I would put a bullet in my kids' head and then my own at our first hunger pang. I just love the unrealistic world some people live in. It's fuel for my fire baby! I know what hell is like, I lived on cheap beer while on camping trips in college.
What really helped bring me out of my funk was finding my soul mate. My friend's sis has a blog and it's the funniest shit I've read in a while. I get her. If she had a cult, I'd join it. If she told me to drink her Kool-Aid, I would. www.lizinla.typepad.com. Reading her blogs about her g'pas funeral brought back warm memories of my dad's funeral where I delivered the eulogy. Brilliant I might add. How many eulogies begin with, "Two guys walk into a bar..."? Probably not many but more should. Aren't we celebrating the persons life and not necessarily morning their death? Believe me, every time I read Justin's shitmydadsays twitter I laugh and think of fond memories with my dad, Dirty Harry, affectionately known as DH (Dick Head) to my sisters and I.
Lastly, back to my classroom. I have one little fella who is naughty, right in my face and then denies it. I finally had to tell him to take his skirt off and man up to his actions. I told him I'd have more respect for him if he admitted his wrong doings and accepted the punishment instead of denying the claims in a little girl's voice. Good advice for a 10 year old boy, don't you think?
The rest of my class for some reason think that mine can at times have an "s" on the end. For example, "That's mines!" I hung up a big sign with the word "Mines" on it with the "s" crossed out. Every time we catch someone saying the word I told my class it's totally acceptable to bang on your desk, scream, and point to the sign.
The moral of the story is... no one is safe.
Now I have to go to Wal Mart with my store credit and look down on all the other shoppers. Where else in America is it acceptable to shop with cheap chardonnay in your coffee mug with your kids?
