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Weekly Journal
June 16, 2019 – June 22, 2019

I’ve been sitting up to sleep because my back aches but only in the morning but not if I sleep sitting up. I know why. I use my sex cushions cause the angle and firmness are perfect. No one knows they’re sex cushions or that I’ve never used them for that purpose or that I bought them years and years ago and have only kept them cause they were expensive as hell. I’m wrapping them in a red bow and taking them to the beach next time I go, my gift to moonlight lovers. While at The 99 Cent Store, I purchased ‘Theraputic Blue Ice‘ and didn’t take note of the spelling until home. On its label, it claims to be “Cool, Greaseless and Fast Acting”. I’ll rub it on my back tonight and see what happens.

The missing ‘E’ is for Ethical. Therapeutic my ass. I bought a product based on a non-existent word. Imagine how hilarious a class-action lawsuit would be. “But your honor, Theraputic is the name of our company and is not at all related to our blue gel-like product which we admit only has the fragrance of menthol, a spot of lead, a quarter teaspoon of Red Dye #40 and a wee pinch of Yellow #6”. Also, the man behind me at the grocery store took a photo of my groceries on the conveyor belt and I didn’t find it to be too obvious but then again maybe I’m paranoid and imagining things. I love my black cat, but if I stare at her too long, she freaks me out. She farts a lot.

On my way to turn on the air conditioner in the dark, my feet met with hundreds of substantial purple grapes, the ones called globes with seeds. The kids didn’t put them away, so the cats fought over them. I moved the temperature to fifty-six degrees, so maybe I’ll wake to a grape juice skating rink. That reminds me of I Love Lucy and my challenge to relax.

Dodging a wayward penis is the right of passage for every parent that has a boy, but I wonder how long the unruly thing lasts. I know some Mum’s and Dad’s potty train boys to urinate while sitting at first then teach them how to do it standing later. I did it both ways. They’re older now, so last night I opted for Fruit Loops in the toilet bowl instead of Cheerios but didn’t tell them. The loops didn’t hold up for an overnight float, so I woke to arguments over who’d left fruity-smelling puke in the toilet. Backfired.

Found an old pair of jeans in my closet with the tags still on but by old I mean they’re new but never worn. I wiggled them up to my thighs before it became a family’ incident’ and by an incident, I mean laughter and jokes about what I was going to do to get them up to, not even over my ass. Horrified I took them off and checked the size, relieved they were my sons, the same son I purchased red silk unicorn and elf underwear for as a joke because they were on clearance. He’s been wearing them for the last three days as shorts. In public. Backfired.

Cooked up the chicken I bought on clearance a few days ago for lunch. It’s nighttime now, and all the kids have diarrhea. Backfired or natural enemas? I opted to eat something different, so win?

Mom time officially supersedes work time, and we’re still alive. Don’t know how it happened but I’m grateful I can be here when and if they need me but daydreaming may still be winning the Where Did My Day Go game. My mind or focus seems to have declined over the last year. Maybe both. Maybe that’s as it should be. Nothing is important to me anymore except love, and I’m slightly concerned it makes me certifiable. Only slightly. Or a little more.

My journals remind me the overwhelm is not as bad as it seems in the moments. Sometimes we need to stand in order not to fall and take whatever position places us in the middle of being surrounded by Love.