This is Turning Into More of an Essay Than a Typical Blog Post

I just had a random thought that was really interesting. But after I grabbed my phone and pulled up the WordPress app, I completely forgot what that thought was.

I’m a little high. That happens. I like it. When I’m high I have the greatest thoughts, I think. And then I forget. I could have had a brilliant thought that evaporated into eternity.

I usually smoke before bed cause even though I take prescription meds, I feel best after a couple of bong rips. It works for me and helps me get to sleep. My sister calms down after work making Lego art. Some people color in adult coloring books to relax. I don’t have the patience for coloring books. When I’m coloring I think of other creative pursuits that I should be doing instead of coloring. And I’m not good at coloring. Mental health professionals recommend coloring to their patients. I know people who are in mental health day programs spend at least some time during the day coloring. Maybe it’s meditative and calms them down. I dunno.

My sister, the one who makes Lego art, the one who’s younger than me, is artistic and a better colorer and drawerer than me. And a better athlete, singer and musician than me. I started violin the summer I turned 7 I think. Lara was sounding out my violin tunes on the piano and she wasn’t even in kindergarten yet. Ugh! She could play the the tunes by ear. That’s impressive. And I couldn’t do that.

You would think that after 42 years on this planet and 40 years as her older sister, that maybe I wouldn’t hold onto old sibling rivalries. You would think I was more mature than I am.

I love this story about me. I was about 23 months when my mom left me. And then she came back holding the baby, the newborn she had just left me to give birth to. That really wasn’t cool of her.

My older sister already existed when I was born so I didn’t know life without her and had no reason to be annoyed by her existence. The baby was an intruder. She was probably annoying too, being a helpless baby and all. And I had separation anxiety when my mom would leave me and no vocabulary to express myself.

Which leads me to this game changing moment in my life.

I love my mom. She’s beautiful and funny and kind. And she’s my mom. But she left me and came back with the baby. So I went up to her and with all my almost two year old might, I punched her in the stomach.

I punched my mom because I didn’t have the words to tell her off. What would I have said to her if I had a vocabulary? I think punching her was the best option because it’s the cutest of all the things. Not true.

When my niece, Emily was born, my nephew, Nick, was about 3. He told my sister to put the baby back. He wanted her to go back in the car and go back. Emily didn’t leave because she’s his sister.

I remembered what the original thought was.

I’m old now and should be responsible for all my shit but I not so secretly want to delegate most of my responsibilities. If I have a staff or a husband, the stuff I have to do as an adult that I don’t want to do, other people or he can do it for me.

Oh! In case you want to know, so far Big Brother 20 is a good season. Very fun.

Especially on weed.

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