Feline Warrior

Just kidding!

But M-Day is on Thursday. She arrives at 11 pm. I’ve done all the housework a girl can do and still walk upright, so I’m hoping the days of her nit-picking are long gone. (Of course, as a guest in my home, you’d think that complaining or nit-picking of any kind wouldn’t happen, but I think that she complained and nit-picked her way out of her last arrangement.)

I had two days off -Monday and today- and I’m anything but rested. I have had some good workouts, though, so that’s good.

There are a few therapists I need to call. As we get closer to M-Day, I feel the growing need to have one on retainer. Just in case of an emotional emergency. Here are some of the issues my mother and I have had in the past, just to give you a hint at what I’m dealing with:

• I can’t have been depressed as a “tween” and then a teen - she’d have known. Forget that I was bulimic, suicidal and actually sent myself to therapy as a youngin’. Secretly with my babysitting money. Yes.
• Or I’m not  Latina or Hispanic, whatever you prefer. Why? I haven’t suffered enough. Um, HULLO! I coulda gone with Jewish (or at least Sephardic) but she’d have to have been the Jewish one. Since it was on my dad’s side, it doesn’t count. It’s the only identity I have, in terms of cultural context.
• My father, even though they’ve been divorced for MANY years (more than a few decades) -and not to mention that he’s DEAD- is the root of all evil. He got what he deserved (lonely, painful death), but then again, he deserved WORSE!

There’s more, but I’m so weary from cleaning that I can’t think of anything else.

Now watch… she’ll be a little princess. And then you will shame me, as I [may then] deserve.

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Tags: M-day, mom, emotional malaise