What a difference a day makes
In a while I will leave this computer for today. Kiss it good night and say: thanks for today love, see you tomorrow. Get all the cables out so my f***ed up cat won't chew on them and put me in a should I keep the bastard or fool someone that he's the best cat in the world, give him away and change my address so the new owners will never find me again-situation. But all of this will happen in an hour or so.
There's always newly washed laundry to hang up, dry laundry to fold, sort and put in the correct place. I need to get my little man's clothes out for tomorrow, set the coffee maker and swear in front of the fridge because we're out of milk again. I have to pick the clothes me and my son wore today up from the floor somewhere and throw them in the laundry basket. I have to do the dishes, wipe the surfaces in the kitchen and feed the cat. No, no, I'm not complaining. Honestly! I like my chores.
I like to have my headphones on and dance around the apartment while I'm putting away my son's clothes in his little chest of drawers, pretending I'm the most amazing looking pop star in the universe. Then I step in front of the mirror, look at my tired face and see what reality really is and get drawn back down to earth again. And it's fine, it's absolutely fine. If I had him, it would even be perfect.
This is how I look when I dance. Oh yes it is, don't argue.
