Friday, June 09, 2006


I looked at the calendar this morning and thought, at least it's Friday. Before realizing that didn't mean a damned thing. I don't get weekends off. Weekends mean nothing special anymore.

I want to smoke, too. ALL. THE. TIME. I dream about smoking. However if I'm even near a cigarette I get repulsed. Even a clove. Even my brand of clove. But I *REALLY* want a smoke.

It's okay to want, I guess. Just not to indulge.

Mojo comes home on Sunday and will be all full of his adventures on the AIDS/Lifecycle and quite frankly I'm feeling like I don't really want to hear about it. I just want to hand him the baby, go to the bookstore and spend the rent money. When I come home, I'll expect the dishes and laundry done, a masseuse, a box of Godiva chocolates and a pitcher of fruity rum drinks.

I am a horrible person.

I'm really much nicer with sleep.

Time to go play with the baby now.


Jill said...

I am so in awe of single parents. Whenever my husband has to be away for an extended period of time, his return automatically becomes PAYBACK TIME. Be sure you get yours.

Artemis Rich said...

I will try. Thanks for the support.

My mom raised me alone from the time I was about six, so I've never really had a role-model for being a SAHM. I've also worked since I was 15 and been amazingly self-sufficient, so the whole idea of being dependent on someone else, as well as new mom identity issues is a challange at best.

I'm still trying to figure out how this whole thing works!