Leftovers

This sits in my bedroom.

Well, I used to have my niece living here and my daughter is 16. I can't just leave this stuff out in the kitchen. I must keep it hidden, I guess. I can also safely say I am not an alcoholic. There but for the grace of God... and all that stuff.

Actually, I am seething with frustration. Years ago, booze is where I would turn. Now, I blog. I guess. Well, even before blogging, I stopped the boozing.

Even so, I want to kick, scream, bite, claw and tear somebody apart. I am not sure who. I would love to have access to a really, really bad person. Somebody who writes a virus, maybe.

My daughter had another mole cut out of her back this evening. I was a softie and bought her a new A&F hoodie, new tee and CD to the tune of $100. Anything to make my little girl feel better after an ordeal like that. Then, we got in a fight on the way home. We had been doing so well, too. Arrgghh. I want to cut myself, too. But of course, I won't! I feel like it. As her Mother, I want to take her pain away, but I can't.

So, no alcohol. No hurting myself. How else can I punish myself? Turning my anger inside. The new kittens are hiding under the basement steps. Yeah, they are safer there. Why do they curl around my feet when I am trying to walk? Why?! Do they have a death wish?

Big breath. Fresh air. All better, now.