A Day In The Life

9:00 AM: Wake up in some strange guy’s bed. Is this the guy that beat me up and kicked me out or the guy that just went on an angry tirade and kicked me out? Or maybe it’s that dude from the bar that used me for sex and then kicked me out…oh, well, any money— I mean, guy will do!! 

9:30 AM: I feel hungover so it’s time for coffee. While drinking it, I drop my child’s phone, the one his dad sent to talk to him since I took away all other forms of communication from them, in the cup. Oops. That’s what you get for for wanting to talk to your dad, kid. Learn the rules.

9:37 AM: First cigarette of the day. 

9:45 AM: Time for Money Bags…errr…I mean, my booty call…ugh, I mean, my boyfriend this week to go to work. They’re about the walk out the door when I call out to them, “um, hello? Aren’t you forgetting something??” They turn around and smile, “oh, of course, how could I forget?!” He takes out his wallet and hands me his credit card. 

10:00 AM: My coffee has somehow turned to straight vodka but I role with it and begin to surf the web. First I hack my ex-husband’s email, then my ex-boyfriend’s Facebook. I look up my daughter’s blog and attempt to leave a comment about how lies are thicker than blood or however that saying goes, only to find out she’s blocked any and all future comments I attempt to post— oh, geez, today is already shaping up to be a doozy. Ten cigarettes and two bottles of vodka later, I finally give it up. 

12:00 PM: my nine-year-old son stumbles into the bathroom where I’ve been throwing up for the last hour. What is he still doing here? Shouldn’t he be in school or something?! He says I forgot to wake him up and drive him. The nerve of this kid. I bet he’ll want food next!! 

12:30 PM: I finally stop throwing up and pull myself off the floor. Just as predicted, my kid starts crying about being hungry and how his teacher’s not going to like the fact that he’s missed another day of school, or some ridiculous nonsense along those lines. Doesn’t he know he’ll be transferring to another school next week anyway? And more importantly, doesn’t he know that the only reason he’s even living with me is so I can collect a child support cheque from his dad every month?! What a little brat, wanting an education. I smoke five more cigarettes and pour myself a glass of wine before making him a bowl of cereal. 

1:00 PM: I finish off the last of my cigarettes and decide I need more alcohol anyway, so I guess it’s time for a trip to the store. I grab my ex-husband’s cheque that he sent for school uniforms or whatever he was going on about and dash out the door, but not before leaving the TV on for the brat— I mean, my kid to watch while I’m gone. Hey, I’m only going to be gone for a few hours and it’s not like I live in one of the most dangerous cities in the U.S. He’ll be fine! 

1:45 PM: Get to the liquor store and do my shopping!! The total comes out to four-hundred something, and for a second I think about how many hours of work you’d have to do to make that much…LOL, just kidding! I run whatever sucker I’m mooching off this month’s credit card like nobody’s business and hop back in the car that my ex-husband bought me. “A job,” I laugh to myself, “what a joke!” 

2:00 PM: Just as I’m about to hit up the mall, my ex-husband texts and asks if he can see his son this week, like he didn’t just see him six months ago. He repeatedly tells me about how he’s paid his child support, whines about “court orders” like that’s supposed to matter to me and when all else fails, he tells me that our older two children, the one’s that I abandoned years ago, really want to see their younger brother. The nerve of those two, acting like we were some kind of family before I up and left and destroyed everything with my own two hands. “No ties to Texas!!” I yell into the phone before promptly hanging up. 

3:00 PM: After a much-needed shopping spree trying to unwind from that damn ex of mine attempting to see his child, I stop by my lawyer’s office and file another lawsuit. “Who are we suing today?” my attorney asks me, already setting up the Family Wheel. I spin. It lands on my brother. Oh well, I guess that’s what he gets for attempting to be a good uncle to those bratty kids of mine all these years. “File the papers!!” I scream. My attorney tells me she can’t file anything until I pay her the money I owe her, so I decide to sue her too.


4:00 PM: I smoke eleven cigarettes on the way home, all the while wondering how the world could be so cruel. When I get home, my kid asks for food again like I’m his mother or something. I smoke nine more cigarettes and down six shots of vodka while I make him a bologna sandwich, which may or not be two months expired. When he complains about it tasting funny, I grab a baseball bat and chase him into his bedroom with it. 

5:00 PM: After I put a few holes in the door with the bat, I go into the bathroom and carve a pentagram into my arm, per request of the Dark Lord, Satan. And you thought a lifestyle this cushy just came from selling myself to any man who’ll have me— guess again!! 

5:30 PM: My booty call…err…boyfriend finally comes home. He’s in a good mood so maybe he won’t kick me out tonight. I cross my fingers. 

5:45 PM: My daughter calls and asks if she can talk to her little brother. I tell her no, he’s not here right now as I’m staring right at him— what a sucker!!!! My boyfriend and I snicker at her crying to see her baby brother over the phone before telling her not to call again or I’d sue her. I’m probably going to sue her anyway but what the hell. 

6:37 PM: The Booty Call’s socks didn’t match exactly so he kicks myself and my son out for the third time this week. I drive to my aunt and uncle’s house and ask them if I can freeload there for the night, and though they agree, they give me an ultimatum that I either live there until I find a place of my own or I don’t come back if and when I get kicked out of my next boyfriend’s house. I lie to them and say I agree to their terms, but in my head, I’ve already put them on my list of traitors. “You think you’re above a lawsuit?!” I say to myself, “well, guess again!!” 

7:00 PM: Using my son for the one thing he’s good for, extorting money out of my ex, I hit up his father for cash so I can hit the bars tonight. I tell him he needs clothes for school and he has the nerve to text back and ask what size he needs like he hasn’t seen his kid in months or something and…oh, wait. Well, whatever. I tell him to eff off and to just send a cheque. Last I checked, this wasn’t 20 questions. I’m so angry, I have to smoke an entire pack of cigarettes just to calm down.


9:00 PM: I finally manage to get enough money together from various family members to let my hair down at the local watering hole, aka get hammered at the pub down the street in the hopes of finding a meal ticket for the next week or so. After weeding out the bad apples who have the audacity to ask what I do for a living like I’m some kind of peasant with a job, I finally find my Joe Blow— only 56-years-old, three credit cards and almost a full head of hair!! I ask if I can move in with him tonight and he agrees…so long as I’m willing to give up the goods, and God knows I am!! 

11:00 PM: I load up my belongings in the driveway of my aunt and uncle’s house as they beg me not to move in with a total stranger I just met at a bar a few hours ago. What awful people!! They’re always trying to control me and get in the way of my great future! They don’t even know Joe or how much money he’s going to give me!! I wake up my son and he acts surprised to be moving again like this isn’t a nightly occurrence. I wish he would just grow up already so I could sue him. I smoke thirteen cigarettes in the car and another six in the house while I unpack my stuff and force the kid into his new bedroom, which happens to double as the garage. 

1:00 AM: Two bottles of wine and a few hours on my back and I’m ready for bed. I look around one last time at the house I’ll be living in for the next few hours before giving my final praises to Lucifer and falling soundly asleep, dreaming about all the family members I might get to sue. 

§Rainbows & Skeletons§

P.S. Welcome to the blog!!