Are "Escorts" Just "Prostitutes" in Disguise?

I've been busy, y'all.  Those who know me personally know that although I'm a struggling writer, I'm also a gainfully employed (on a part-time basis) heifer who collects a steady pay check in spite of her bitchy attitude and poor interpersonal skills (maybe that's why they've banned me from the office unless there's a staff meeting).  But, the gravy train is running on empty.  At the end of the year, after fifteen years, they're giving me the boot.  Right in the ass.

So, I've been spending the last couple of months trying to figure out what the fuck I can do to make the same amount of money without going back to work in an office full time.  Freelance writing doesn't pay shit, y'all.  (Just sayin'... in case it wasn't obvious.)  Aside from prostitution, diaper changing or serving as a drug mule, I'm pretty much open to anything.  Running an escort service would be awesome... but then I'd be a pimp and probably end up in jail.  I'm too damn cute for jail.

Anyway... I've been dabbling in some genius-ass stuff, y'all.  If it all works out, I'll fill you guys in on it.  Until then, we'll be munching on Ramen Noodles, Lone Star beer and generic peanut butter in a mobile home park that smells like piss.  Feel free to send us some charity.

My spawns get tired of me complaining about our lack of money.  The youngest spawn has even VOWED to never find herself in my pitiful situation when she's an adult....

Spawn:  I'm going to have lots of money when I'm grown up!  I'm going to be able to buy everything I want all the time!

Me:  That would be awesome.  You could even buy me a bunch of stuff.

Spawn: Yeah!  I'm going to marry a billionaire.

Me: Huh?

Spawn: Billionaires have a hundred bazillion dollars.  They never run out of money.  That's the kind of husband I'm gonna need to get me all the stuff I want.  And, I won't ever have to tell MY kids that they can't have all the awesome stuff THEY want.

Me: Sounds like a plan!  But I would rather YOU were the rich one... go to college and become some great, fancy doctor or something.

Spawn:  Oh, I'll be rich, too... but I'll save all my money in case my husband dies.

Me: Nice.  Well, it's good to have goals.

I have raised that heifer well.  My work here is done.

Celebrate Good Times, C'mon!

I've been celebrating all week! Celebrating the fact that my kids are finally back at school.  It was the longest fucking summer break in history; and I survived!  That shit was cause for celebration.  There were many times during the past couple of months that I thought I was fixenta lose my shit, y'all.  Once, when my medication reached it's maximum threshold for patience, I had to lock myself up in the closet under the stairs (like Harry Potter) to cry my ass off. If the NFL Pre-Season hadn't started when it did, I'm pretty sure I'd have flipped my lid and gone homicidal up in here. Those football booties saved some fucking lives.  I'm really not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

I guess it's good because I didn't end up in jail.  I'm too cute for jail.

So now, my life is "back to normal"... meaning I'm back to regular "work" hours.  I've taken on a few new projects which I hope prove to be lucrative; but in the meantime, I'm still writing boring-ass bullshit for idiots who think they're smarter than I am. I'm also still working part-time for "the man".  But... AT LEAST MY KIDS ARE BACK IN SCHOOL!  I thank the 6lb 8oz baby Geezus for that shit every day.

Did I mention that football season has started?

Don't move, Honey, I'll be right there!!

Gonads, Ice Picks and Husband-Eating Zombie Wives

If Hubber begins one more sentence with, "Since you'll be at home all day doing nothing, could you..."... I'ma pluck his eyeballs out with a rusty ice pick and squish his gonads between my freakishly strong toes. Then, I'll pull his hair.  And for good measure, I'll scrub the toilet with his toothbrush.

For some strange reason, Hubber seems to think that I roll out of the bed each morning and assume this ritual:

1. slurp down a cup of coffee
2. stumble into my house slippers
3. drive starving teen spawn to school
4. get back home and crawl back under the covers
5. take magically dressed, sugar-filled kindergartener (with shiny clean teeth) to school
6. get back home and crawl back under the covers
7. take a two-hour nap
8. turn the tv on and watch soaps and talk shows while munching on Cheetos and drinking rum and coke
9. roll back out of bed to frolick around in the backyard with the dog
10. "play" on facebook until it's time to pick teen spawn back up from school

I wish, mofo!

Instead, shit usually goes down like this:

1. fall out of bed
2. try to spruce myself up a bit to look alive
3. scream at teen spawn to hurry the hell up
4. beg tiny spawn to get up
5. answer a few work-related emails
6. plead with teen spawn to eat/drink something before we leave
7. argue that we do NOT have time to go to McDonald's on the way to school 
8. drag tiny spawn out of bed kicking and screaming
9. pile kids up in the car and drive to the high school
10. halfway there, teen spawn freaks out that she forgot something at home
11. more arguing takes place
12. drop teen spawn off at school
13. get back home to get tiny spawn ready for school
14. fight with tiny spawn regarding hair/teeth brushing and NOT having a popsicle for breakfast
15. remind her that panties and socks are essential on school days
16. answer a few work-related emails
17. take tiny spawn to school
18. sit in the car line for at least 10 minutes while other jackass parents figure out how to fucking drop their kids off and move the hell out of the way
19. get home and let the dog out
20. scream at dog for fighting with neighbor's dog
21. feed animals / clean litter box
22. make FIRST cup of coffee
23. answer work-related emails
24. return a couple of calls
25. work
26. wash some dishes
27. work
28. throw a load of laundry into the washing machine
29. work
30. sit in on ridiculously long conference call while catching up on some writing
31. pay bills
32. run to the grocery store
33. work
34. look at the time and freak out that I only have 10 more minutes until I have to pick teen spawn back up from school

I'll stop there because what comes next deals with carpooling... arguing with teen spawn... running (literally) in the direction of tiny spawn's bus stop so the bus driver doesn't get mad at me for being late again..... getting write-up from teacher because my kindergartener can't behave at school... arguing with tiny spawn about her television priveledges... trying to get more work done... etc. etc.

Then, Hubber gets home all tired, wondering what the fuck I did all day and why we're having cereal again for dinner and why I didn't wash a load of whites.

 

2011: It's a Wrap!

2011 was a tough year for my family. 

It's been nearly a year since my grandma started hangin' loose with the sweet 6 lb, 8oz baby Jesus in heaven.  And, it seems we've all been stumbling through the year making up new family traditions for ourselves without her.  Shit just isn't the same without that ol' gal.  But, the world keeps turning and life seems to be going by at full speed.

On the homefront, we had to adjust our lifestyles to my new career move. You know, THE MOVE. The one that resulted in less income but more freedom.  The one that relieved me from stress and restored some of my sanity.  The same move that has injected me permanently into the daily lives of my children.  Yeah, that one.

I've watched my teen spawn mature a little.  She appreciates having me at home and has been a real trooper when it comes to budgeting for material things she was accustomed to getting at the drop of hat.  I'm one proud momma.

I think I've had to adjust more than anyone else. I haven't bought myself new clothes or shoes in over a year. The funny thing is that I didn't even realize that I have been going without until I was cleaning out my closet the other day.  Some things just aren't THAT important.

Also, I've learned that "working from home" isn't as easy as it sounds.  You still have to bathe, shave, manage your time, juggle "work" and "home", and deal with dumbasses on semi-regular basis. 

All in all, though, life is good.

Happy Holidays!  May 2012 bring great adventures!