My Static Texts Are Hysterical

[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:32 AM] Otter: LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE DONE
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:32 AM] Otter: YOU’RE TEARING THIS FAMILY APART
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:33 AM] Terra: Well maybe if you cleaned up once in a while…
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:33 AM] Otter: :O
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:33 AM] Terra: Put on a dress. Prettied yourself up.
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:33 AM] Terra: Maybe I’d take you out. We’d leave the kids with Aunty Ryio and have a night out.
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:34 AM] Terra: But no. You’re always wearing that frumpy smock.
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:34 AM] Otter: It’s comfy
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:34 AM] Terra: It’s coveted in bacon fat
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:34 AM] Terra: You remind me of your mother.
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:34 AM] Otter: It’s comfy and smells of bacon
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:34 AM] Otter: What’s not to like
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:34 AM] Terra: Frumpy!
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:35 AM] Terra: You’re not the woman I married.
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:35 AM] Otter: We’re not even married!
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:35 AM] Otter: Wait
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:35 AM] Otter: Was I drunk?
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:35 AM] Ryio: Who wants to play cribbage? (That’s what auntys do right?)
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:35 AM] Terra: WHAT HAS BECOME OF US CHISTOS.
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:35 AM] Otter: Did we get married by Elvis?
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:35 AM] Terra: He was a nice man
[Thursday, February 26, 2015 10:35 AM] Otter: I’m sure he was lovely.

What have I been doing to myself?

I went on an interview I feel good about, but if I get the job or not, I don’t know if I care. I went to Canada, I’m currently sitting behind my husband after one of our late night adventures, granted, we went out in a blizzard, buuuuuut, we didn’t die, right?

And I feel so calm and at peace with myself for the first time in a few months. I don’t feel like my heart is going to race out of my veins, I don’t feel like my head is swimming in pea soup and my glasses got lost hours ago.

I just feel calm.

I’ve overslept, underslept, drank more coffee than I ever have before, though it’s more like sweet milk with a spoonful of coffee, I ran through snow, and went amiibo hunting.

I couldn’t care what happens anymore. I don’t care if I max out my credit card on groceries and Tim Hortons. I don’t want to keep going on feeling like the world is falling onto my head anymore.

Refreshed.

For about 48 hours, I hid.

I hid because I lost my job because I had the gall to write fiction and humor.

To these people, I implore you to remove the MASSIVE stick from your anal cavity.

I’ll give you a hint: Just because someone is not 100% who you think they are, you don’t need to instantly flip your opinion of them. In short:

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I have taken my first shower since Thursday night (Yes, gross I know…) and I feel refreshed. I feel ALIVE. I was more than willing to get out of bed this morning. Happy, almost.

To my babies, my little ones that will barely have me etched into their memories, I’m sorry. I will miss you dearly. I hope beyond hope that the moron they find to put in there tries to fight for you at least a bit like I did. I also hope you destroy them. Scream, wail, cry,
fight. I loved you all, my babies. I did not, however, love how I was told to teach you. And for that, I am glad, I am free. I took the job as your teacher hoping I could do it. I was never looking for your age group, but, you grew on me, snotlings. I still didn’t want to be there and it was a fight every day to smile and not break into a bazillion pieces.

To my coworkers, WELL ONE OF YOU IS A DICK. They rest of you are kinda cool.

My assistant, well you were damn awesome. Keep on keepin’ on.

Dear world, I will not hide. I refuse.

Fight me.

You know, someone should have really went ‘gee this person is awfully odd on here…’ before you jumped down my throat and looked at me like I was some kind of child molester. Just because I write about people losing their internal organs doesn’t mean I’m not a good human being. Fuck you. I never once mentioned you by name, my name, or even where I was. Wait, no, I take back that fuck you. I am free.

gagahate

Gaga, I want your ass. <3