De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da

47 Weeks

I haven't finished any of my writing. I haven't papered the bedroom or repotted the plants I left on the porch. I haven't made a hot dinner, done the laundry, or changed the sheets in two weeks. The last weed I pulled was up to my arm pit. I haven't answered an email in six days and I haven't returned a phone call since my birthday last year. I bring work home from the office at night and carry it back there again every morning. I forget to feed the dog at breakfast and when I kiss my husband I barely look at him.

I'm in love with a tiny, little bald guy who puts sticky fingers up my nose, pees in the tub, and calls me "ATSH."