Mrs. Freshness

Today I found myself shopping at Walmart, searching for all the 'stuff' that we needed. The package of cupcakes with the name, 'Mrs. Freshness' caught my eye. A delicious devil's food cupcake with a nice white stripe of icing down the middle was on the box, with Mrs. Freshness above it. The price was low, $1.00. I could see why, as they certainly didn't spend much on development in the marketing department. That pic was all a lonely little lady like me needs.

Ho hum. Me and the devils food.

And so now, I wait for the bedding to dry. Maya, the fat cat, crapped in my bed. In my bed. I have some issues with boundaries, I suspect. A homeless fat cat keeps slinking down to our front door and tonight, walked in the house. The door must have been open just enough, and, there he was, proud as you please, walking around the place. Boundaries, boundaries, boundaries. I picked up the hefty guy, who has been eating at various houses on the cul de sac and tossed him out. "Sorry, bud".

I felt guilty for about 10 seconds and then it went away.

For some reason, this has been THE week, the week I got my shit together and made plans. I was readmitted. I ordered a catalog from the Social Welfare School, I talked to my boss about how much I hate my job; I made plans for the future. And tonight, me and Mrs. Freshness had a meltdown. What the hell am I doing?

I'm afraid if I keep doing what I am doing, I'll become a mushroom. I'll be one of those women who buys cat food at the dollar store and lives with her sister and wears baggy pants and funny glasses.

Both kids are with friends. It's hard when kids decide they'd rather hang with friends than at home. No shit, but it still sucks. Just me and the animals and Mrs. Freshness.

The planning for the retreat is coming along too well. How many years have I dreamt about this and now it's actually coming together? It's supposed to happen, is all I can figure.

I was watching 'What Not to Wear' last night, and, lo and behold, the woman in the 360 degree mirror was a black version of me. My daughter even saw the resemblance. 'Mom, that is you! Look!' Oh, lord. She was a delightful woman, smart, engaging, interesting, funny but, buried under fabric and baggy-ness. She was denying the world her beauty. And, of course, after the hair, makeup and nice duds, she looked awesome. I saw how the world sees me, and, no wonder cats and dogs and kids and parents and housecleaning clients and neighbors and strangers walk all over me. I am a human Rug.

I'm listening to the new Annie Lennox. Oh, how I love her. How strong she is! Such a talent, that girl.

I miss my mom. I miss talking to her. When she was well, she was so great, so rich with color and insight. I loved staying up late and talking to her for hours and hours. We did that. I just loved her. I think she'd be proud of me now. I really do.

I am so glad that I'm not in love right now. I couldn't handle it. Thank you, god for not sending some dude my way. It would not be pretty.

Both kids have love interests. I watch and say little. Love will fuck you up, that is for sure.

I'll stick with Mrs. Freshness and fresh sheets.