The problem is, I don't really feel like smoking pot. It just seems like it would make life a little more interesting to have my kitchen smell like it, when it should smell like, oh, I don't know, chocolate chip cookies? I imagine Dan the D-bag walking in and asking with a semi-startled, bordering on concerned if he wasn't too cool for concern, laugh if I'm stoned. And when I confidently say Yes, daring Dan to challenge me, he narrows his eyes briefly, says "Hmm." and heads to the computer. He won't address it till he leaves, when he'll look at the baby and say "Well, have fun getting stoned...?" Ah, funny scenario, but not really worth the paranoia that ensues when you are not an actual pot head.
The urge to do drugs in my kitchen is interesting, though. Am I craving excitement? I'm not the kind of mom who doesn't get out, Ned makes sure of that, so I don't think I have cabin fever. And my kids are normally behaved, whiny and tempermental, but they are sweet and cheery little girls. So I have no crazy stress there. Ned and I are fine. (Really.) He would probably ask if there was any weed left if he smelled it in the kitchen, but we're Fine.
I think I need a change. I'm always wary of giving in to needing a change, because it seems like a slippery slope, like I'll end up needing a new house every 6 weeks by the time I'm 40. But I think I need a change. I think I'm bored F-ing stiff by humanity and life. I think the Buffalo freeze has entered my brain and I am not longer allowed to be stimulated. (It was 5 degrees this morning.) I might need a new friend. I might need a new car. I might need a new couch. Somehow a new friend seems like the easiest accomplishment. A huge, angry, authentic African American woman seems like a great match for me right now. I don't take her s*hit and she don't take mine. Everything on the table and no holds barred. No Neds for her, she would show me the silly little white girl that I truly is. I really think that would thaw the anti-humanity freeze that has attached itself to my mind. Maybe I'll tell Ned he can smoke pot freely in the kitchen if he finds me a nice, sensible, angry as hell, big as hell, black as hell Woman to be my new best friend.
Honey, I am right there with you. Except I think that Joe may fill the 'angry black woman' space in my life LMAO!
ReplyDeleteListen joey, you struck a chord. an out of tuned chord. Now i know im not the first one ever really to comment on my blog, but hellz! you never comment on mine and im not putting an ad out there for a new friend! Go to rosas, get a new couch, and forget all this "new friend" business. or else your christmas present will walk on donkeys back all the way back to the warehouse and you'll have to pay for summer vacation alone. And someum tells me aunt jemima ain't gone have yo ass for DAT!
ReplyDeletehmmmm, you want a friend where 'everything is on the table and no holds barred'? don't you have your plethora of siblings for that? and kiera? i mean, i think your being a little greedy here and thats coming from an only child. no inside jokes, no stories from growing up, no unspoken connection. just me, myself and i to reminisce about putting on a solitary press on nail to play qvc host to my mother's 90's crystal collection. now thats pain.
ReplyDeleteI couldn't have said it better myself. You need a change. A BIG change. Bite the bullet and do it Jo. Someone is telling you something and well..... this blog just made it obvious.
ReplyDeleteis she moving to peru nicole?
ReplyDelete