Life was so much easier for Harriet Nelson. It just was. And June Cleaver and all those high heel wearing moms. How did they do it? And will someone look at my life someday and say, "How did she do it? Probably not. Or maybe.
I live my life in the van. Seriously. I spent more time in the van today then I did in my house. If only I could have it hooked up with cable and a full time waitress who served me nothing but chocolate, well I would just go ahead and move in.
It's only been a week or two and I am already thinking, "Why did I make this commitment to blog everyday?" Was I smoking something funny when I came up with this idea? Did I hit my head? Well, I always did think that there would be some damage from all the times I hit my head on the upper part of the doorway to the beer cooler back in the day. Yeah, I was a barmaid. Can you believe it? And I had to go down to a dungeon like cellar, where we had a beer cooler and we had to bring up cases of beer. Sometimes I would forget to duck, and whomp, the head hit the top of the doorway. Oooh, I can still feel that pain. Not so good.
But you don't want to hear about that. Although those were fun times. I used to pray with my customers. It was crazy. I think that was my schizophrenic phase. Later on I would get wasted with them, and that was not always a good example to set let me tell you. But some things are better not talked about!
Did you ever wonder how a person can get so tired from sitting in a vehicle all day? Makes 'em a little slap happy and prone to wandering thoughts better left unwritten. No, I have not been hitting the bottle tonight. Have you ever been so gosh darned tired that you haven't a normal thought in your head.
I am past that. Way, way past that.
But at least I wrote.