someone deleted the beginnings of this posting. don't know who it was, perhaps i inadvertently left this machine open, perhaps a kid trying to sneak 'game minutes' got carried away and took his life into his own hands, unwittingly. wait 'til he gets home. (yeah, right, like i'll remember to enforce something i completely have no evidence about... and won't even remember by the time 3:30 rolls around.)
Today is my first day.
I like the sentence, but meant it as part of a longer story, though perhaps all my kvetching is unneccessary. Rode my bike this morning, for ten miles on a beautifully clear autumn day, near the ocean, where the blue hits you right in the sternum and you can't fake it. rode slowly, and quickly, and was passed twice by the same group of people who looked older than me, but probably aren't, they just didn't have kids, or pendulous nursing breasts, or mismatched biking outfits cobbled together with yogatypestretchable clothing.
My dad watched the babe, which used to be a questionable practice, because he wants so much to be doing other things. But my mother goes for surgery tomorrow to remove her gall bladder and is succumbing to mind-numbing fear about the whole process. We are in heavy prayer rotation here, real moments of goosebump focus.
On Saturday I ride in a 25 mile fundraising thing called the Rodman Ride for Kids. Once my mom is done, I'll turn some of the prayers towards myself, I think. I'm just hoping to not throw up, and to not have to have an emergency vehicle get involved with my bad self. My sister made me do it, and I am trying not to think about how the ride is essentially twice.five what i did this morning. shitfuckhead.
the middle boy, freshfaced kindergartener extraordinaire, was home two days this week recovering from uncontrollable bowel incidents and puke. supah. but secret? i loved having him home. i got almost nothing done, because i was watching him play with the babe, draw pictures of monsters and cool ass hands... giggling with a little girlbaby as he pushes her in a wagon. the idea that this experience is limited in time and space hurts my heart but i am feeling downright miraculous in being aware of it. a bittersweet vine.
i've now polished off a coffeeroll and am working my way through some overlarge gumdrops. they are almost too much.
evidently this bike riding thing will not result in weight loss.
poooof.
COLOURED TELEVISION, by Danzy Senna
10 hours ago
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