Drug abuse, bad parenting, grief and even clothing addiction.
I know, because I googled it and everybody knows that Google is the smartest thing in the world. Google is on every cell phone and even housed in a pair of specs.
Heck,
Google maps even caught me sauntering into Buhach Preschool a few years ago huffing and puffing like a Sasquatch. (it's true..you can Google it.)
...anyway. I accepted a long time ago that I am a flawed human being. Fully flawed.
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#Flawedandfalling
At 5:47 I rush out of the lobby, excited to lock up the center and get my weekend started (because let's face it, a Netflix binge is in my future.)
At 5:57 pm I limp inside of the lobby with my (Juans) now broken umbrella shaking in my fist.
"What! What happened to you?!" At first Preeti is SO concerned.
"I fell! I fell down the steps!" I lifted my skirt to show her my knee. "You know when you're old (and fat) you don't even realize that you are falling until it is over." I then reenact my falling.
"Oh my God....Are you okay?" She smiles.
"Yes asshole."
"Oh myyyyy Gawwwwwd." She laughs. "I am sorry to laugh."
"Friends are supposed to laugh when you fall. I can't WAIT for you to fall. I'm going to shit myself laughing at you. Look at my knee!" I whine and limp off to text Juan about his broken umbrella.
I sort of fold it back up and prop it in place. "Maybe he wont notice that half of it is crunched." I murmur to myself.
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#Flawedandfailing
Emma tells me that I intimidate her friends.
"But I am the nicest person in the entire world!" I state.
"Just look at you! With your hair and clothes. Not to mention your red lips. YOU are intimidating."
I huff off. Worried that I don't look as nice as I feel inside.
On Wednesday Morning I was driving Emma to school. We pick up 2 of her besties on the way. It is usually so early that I never have time to talk to them, PLUS, I do the whole 'I am just going to drive and not embarrass my daughter' thing.
Well THIS Morning, Micheal was late to wake up and late to hop in the car.
What's a mom to do? Make conversation of course!
"Hi Gynnifyr." I turn and look at my daughters best friend.
"Hi." She smiles shyly.
SIDENOTE: Gynnifyr is ADORABLE. I love her and her freckles and blunt bangs so much, but usually I try to stay "chill." (chill is what my daughter says is quiet)
"Do you have a boyfriend Gynnifyr?" I question, noting that Emma's face is falling in the review mirror.
"No." she smiles and looks out of the window.
"Good girl. Boys are stupid. Do you have a girlfriend? Do you like girls? Sometimes that happens." I ramble.
"No!" she turns red while Emma's face glowers at me in the mirror.
"Uh oh." I murmur and turn back around.
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#Flawedandfullyaware
I am addicted to clothing. (See? I have accepted it. Which is the first step.)
The problem is...I don't really want to fix it. Unless fixing it means going to a shopping spree.
I am actually MORE addicted to men's clothing and follow several sites on the Instagram.
I love a fancy man in fancy clothes. Bespoke suits...*shudder
Talk fashion to me...please.
'You had me at Prt-porter' is a shirt I would gladly wear.
The problem with me is my inability to keep my hands to myself when it comes to feeling clothing of items that I am drooling over.
The bigger problem is when Parents realize it and ask me if I want to touch their jacket, scarf or god forbid purse.
Uh oh they are on to me. I think while gladly feeling the texture of their jackets.
The other day Jana plunked her purse on the desk in front of me. "I got a new Bestey. Wanna smell it?"
"Bitch." I murmured to her and picked up the purse angrily. "Of COURSE I do." And I smooshed it to my face for a whiff.
